Icy Violets
by Dancing Spectrum
Summary: Always wound tight, locked up, hidden. A twist of fate, a dash of luck and a summer holiday is going to unwind, unlock and reveal, the blooming flower under the ice. COMPLETE, WITH SEQUEL COMING UP SOON!
1. Chapter 1

**I****cy Violets**

"Violet Christine Del Bario McMillan!" a voice shrieked from downstairs.

_Uh oh, _Violet thought. _Mom's using my full name. Not good._

"Coming mom!" Violet shouted back. She grabbed her guitar case, slung her bag over her shoulder and lugged her suitcase downstairs. She saw her father in the hallway, all packed and ready to go.

"Hey dad," she greeted him. He grinned back and helped her load her suitcase into the car.

"I bet you're glad you've go me for a dad, what with your mother," he joked, grinning at her.

"And I bet you don't want me to tell mom you said that, don't you?" Violet replied in a mock whisper, smirking.

What her father had said was true, to some extent. Her mother was Asian, a beautiful dark haired beauty from the Philippines. But like all Asian mothers, she was a tiger mother. Having a British father like hers kept her from going insane from her mother's obsession with perfection and cleanliness. yet, behind all that craziness, her mother had a good heart, which was in the right place... most of the time.

"Violet," her mother scolded, appearing in the hallway. "If I hadn't called you out of your room, you would've missed your flight."

"Mom, I'm fourteen!" Violet groaned. "I don't need to be told. I was on my way down anyway," Right now, her mother was in one of her lecturing moods.

"Maria, dear," her father cut in. "If you're going to lecture us on punctuality and tardiness, we're _definitely_ not going to be able to see my mother!"

"Honey, it's a fourteen hour flight to England! You need to be at the airport early,"

"Well, there won't _be_ a flight if you keep badgering us! Besides, if we leave now, we'll make it to the airport by two thirty, _four hours _before the flight."

Violet sighed. Her parents had been fighting more often nowadays, bickering about the tiniest things. _Like about this trip, _Violet thought miserably. Violet

was going to visit her grandmother in England, and her parents had been arguing about who would go with her. Both couldn't come, as someone had to stay and take care of her little sister, who was now 2 months old. Eventually, her mother had decided to stay, as she didn't want to "go out in the open while she was still fat". 

"Okay, now we can go!" her father announced, pulling Violet out of her thoughts. "Your mother has graced us with the permission to leave her presence,"

"Arthur," her mother said in a threatening tone.

"Mom, come on, you can't kill dad now, he needs to take me to see granny!" Violet whined.

They all hugged and kissed goodbye, climbing into the car, setting off for the airport. For some reason, Violet felt as if something...something was going to happen.

They were in the car, which was driving along an old road somewhere in the country in England, on the way to her grandmother's house. Having been born in the exciting modern city life of Hong Kong, the sight of houses; beautiful houses with flourishing gardens and a clear blue sky was a rather nice change of scenery. But above all, the tranquility. She had grown accustomed to the screaming of old Chinese ladies, vendors selling fake or reject items, tourist mainlanders constantly bellowing and belching in public places, the constant roaring of traffic, the bright city lights...

Yet here, in the country, nothing could have been more different. And she was just that as well - different. Her dark skin, petite figure and height stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the fair skin and the tall heads in England. Even back home, she didn't fit in. Her light brown hair stood out from the sea of black hair, and her eyes - how peculiar they were, hazel with flecks of green and gold, framed by thick, long lashes. Not to mention, she was extremely pretty. Violet would do anything to take all of that away. All she wanted was to be like everyone else, to blend into the background. She even had her hair straightened, so it would match the naturally straight hair of her schoolmates. In the summer, she avoided wearing shorts, as she hated exposing her legs, which were long and attractive, and got her too much attention for her taste. Yet although she had done so much to fit in, she only had one friend - Ian, her best friend since childhood.

But there was a time when she wasn't afraid to be herself, to stand out, when she didn't care... no, she would not think of that now. Not that dreaded night. Violet cursed the tears that threatened to spill over and tried to look for something... anything to take her mind off that night three years ago...

*FLASHBACK*

_Club Serena Resort, Philippines, 3 years ago, 10:30 pm_

_Violet was on vacation with her family in the Philippines, at a resort called Club Serena. She and her family were walking back to their rooms after stargazing on the beach, when Violet realized she had left her shawl on the gazebo by the beach. She then told her parents to go ahead while she went back to get her shawl, for fear it would be stolen by morning._

_The shawl was her favourite one, made of thin linen, dyed a deep blue, so blue that it was almost black, with fringes round the edges. Her mother had gotten it for her off a vendor's cart a few years ago in India, for about five dollars worth. She had taken it many places since, and cherished it dearly._

_She arrived at the beach and walked towards the gazebo where she and her family had been stargazing earlier that night. When she finally reached the gazebo, she found no trace at all of her shawl. Violet hissed in frustration and began muttering curses profusely, making her way back. But just as she did, she heard footsteps behind her, sand being kicked and stepped on. She froze, not sure how to react. Being in the Philippines, it could be anyone from on of the beach guards or a serial killer. She whipped around abruptly to fine herself face to face with a tall and handsome boy._

_"Looking for something?" he grinned, holding up Violet's shawl. She blushed furiously - ever since she had arrived at the resort, she'd developed a little bit of a crush on this boy. His name was Marc, the fifteen year old son of the resort owner. He had dark curls, and gorgeous, dreamy brown eyes. He was also known as quite a ladies man, even at his young age... well, at least with girls his age._

_Violet pulled herself together and muttered her thanks, taking her scarf back. Marc glanced towards the shore, then back to her, his eyes scouring her up and down._

_"You know," he said slowly."The beach is most beautiful at night, everything is just white and black, so simple, so beautiful,"_

_"Yeah," Violet agreed. "And the stars are beautiful as well. It's why me and my family come her every summer, just to look at the stars..."_

_He ignored her, but instead__, his eyes began to travel up and down her body, finally resting on her eyes, staring at her intensely. _

_"But not as beautiful as you," he whispered. Violet gasped when she realized what his intentions were._

_"I-I really should be going back," she stammered, beginning to back away. "My parents-"_

_Marc caught up to her, his lips crashing down on hers. She began to struggle, terrified at what was happening to her. His hands pinned her arms down, holding them in a viselike grip. He roughly pushed her to the sand then climbed on top of her, straddling her, trapping her beneath him._

_Violet then did the first thing that came to mind._

_She screamed._

_She screamed the loudest she had ever screamed. That was until she felt a cloth being stuffed into her mouth, abruptly cutting off her air supply, along with several grains of sand cascading down her throat. She began to choke and cough, and the cloth - which she later discovered was her shawl - was removed for a while so she could breathe, before being violently shoved back into her mouth. _

_She gave up, gave in, stopped fighting, once she felt the cold night air brushing against her skin. She was now bare, bare for him to use and abuse. She sobbed and sobbed, in helplessness and despair as she felt the harsh sounds of skin slapping on skin. As he shoved into her and violated her. As he shattered her into a million pieces on the inside. As she listened to him grunt and pant all over her... it was all she could do, until the blissful void of darkness, of nothingness claimed her._

*END OF FLASHBACK*

Violet had been found the next day by a beach guard, lying in the sand, unconscious, hand tied to the gazebo, covered in bruises, with her shawl still in her mouth.

Marc had been arrested and put behind bars for ten years. Violet was given counseling, but it didn't help. Marc had taken too much from her; her virginity, her confidence, her personality, but most importantly, her had shattered her childhood dream, that the world might actually have some good in it. Shattered and thrown to the wind, at the tender age of eleven. even though it had already been three years since her attack, her sleep was still plagued by nightmares of him coming back to get her once more.

Ever since that fateful night, Violet had done everything in her power never to stand out, so she would never have to relive those memories again. She was only ever herself when she locked herself in her room, where she was sure no one could see her. Only then would she let herself open up, when she would lose herself in her music or her art.

"Violet?" her father said gently. "Are you alright?"

Dammit, she was crying. _Weak, vulnerable crybaby, _she scolded herself. She sniffed and wiped her tears away.

"It's nothing I can't handle," Violet muttered. Her father nodded, and continued driving.

"Just wanted to tell you we're almost there," he told. Violet was grateful that her father understood - sharing was not the best thing for her, most of the time. If she wanted to share, she would tell him.

At last, they had arrived. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, an old lady shuffled out the front door as fast as she could.

"Violet!" the old lady squealed.

"Granny!" Violet exclaimed, climbing clumsily out of the car, running to her grandmother. Before she knew it, Violet was being crushed in her grandmother's embrace, which was surprisingly strong despite the woman's old age of eighty two.

"Oh, Violet dear," her grandmother gasped. "You've grown so tall, and so beautiful too!"

"Thanks granny," she grinned back. She inhaled her grandmother's scent. Her grandmother smelled nothing like the old people back in Hong Kong - she wore rosewater perfume and used strawberry scented shampoo, that kept her her smooth and soft, even though it was a shocking white. Despite her many wrinkles, her eyes glistened with a youthful energy that made her grandmother look younger than her years.

Suddenly a loud thud interrupted their embrace.

"Violet!" her father groaned. " Come help me with these bloody suitcases!"

"Arthur William McMillan! You know better than to use have foul language rolling off your tongue like that!" her grandmother scolded. Violet giggled as her father turned red at being addressed like a child, and wondered what her grandmother would say if she knew just how much Violet swore on a daily basis. Then Violet went to help her father, while her grandmother scuttled back into the house to make tea.

"Oh, and Violet?" her grandmother called over her shoulder, smiling. "I made your favourite cinnamon cookies,"

Violet gasped, dropped her bags and ran into the house. Her father shook his head helplessly as he went to drag all the luggage to the house on his own.

Violet was in the kitchen with her grandmother, chewing through her ninth cinnamon cookie when her father trudged down the stairs after having put all the bags upstairs.

"Mother," he said exasperatedly. "You couldn't have just waited to announce that you made cookies until after Violet helps me with the bags?"

"Sorry Arthur dear, but Violet would've smelled them from the hallway and abandoned you anyway," her grandmother replied, chuckling.

"Essh choo," Violet piped up through a mouthful of cookies.

"Pardon? Violet don't talk with your mouth full," the old lady scolded.

Violet then gulped down the cookies and repeated. "It's true. I would've smelled them,"

Everyone at the table laughed and continued to eat.

"Oh, I've just remembered!" her grandmother exclaimed suddenly. "I promised Susan I'd go visit her today. I'm afraid her time's coming soon," she added with a sad smile.

"You're not talking about Mrs. Fairwood are you, granny?" Violet gasped in shock.

"I'm afraid so," her grandmother replied. Mrs. Fairwood was like another grandmother to Violet. She had told her stories as a child, about magical lands in wardrobes, great kings and queens, grand lions and evil witches...

Mrs. Fairwood lived in an old worn down mansion, a couple of miles from the small town Violet' grandmother lived in. People have often tried to persuade her to move to another place, but the good old lady refused to budge. Nobody could see why she was so attached to the old mansion, when she could just sell the historical artifacts that came with the house, and use the money to buy another.

"So when do we live?" Violet asked, standing up to brush the crumbs off her pants.

"Right now, if you don't mind," her grandmother replied." You don't have to come if you're tired Arthur," she added, noticing Violet's father yawning. He nodded and slunk up the stairs.

"Come now Violet," her grandmother said, walking towards the door. "We'll have Ernie next door drive us there,"

Violet pondered on how persuasive her grandmother could be when she wanted to. With a combination of offers for her special rum and fruit cake, dinner at her house the next week and a gift of a bottle of fine whiskey, Ernie, or Uncle Ernie as Violet liked to call him, her grandmother's cranky old neighbor, obliged to drive them.

"You know Violet," her grandmother began. "No matter how old and cranky they get, the way to a man's heart will always be through his stomach,"

"Who're you calling 'old and cranky'?" he scowled, making a face that made Violet giggle.

After Ernie had dropped them off, Violet and her grandmother stood in front of the huge doors of the mansion where Mrs. Fairwood lived, waiting for someone to answer the door after having rung the bell several times.

No matter how many times she had been here, Violet was still amazed by the old mansion, no less so than the first time she had been could tell it once must have been very beautiful and grand... well, at least in Violet's eyes it still was, but she understood that not everyone could see the beauty hidden beneath. That was one of the advantages of being a loner. She observed everything with an open mind, and was able to perceive things that most people found hard to see.

If she could be grateful about her attack for one thing, it would be how her being made socially inept opened her eyes to the world - she didn't use her mouth as much as she used to, and this gave her time to use her other senses. With that, she noticed things she'd never noticed before. She'd noticed that the flowers in the school garden smelled and looked wonderful, which further led her to art, sketching every flower she saw. She began to label each species of flowers that she sketched with a name and an expression... this one was cheerful, this one was depressing, this one looked mischievous, this one was mysterious... she also noticed how sometimes, if the wind was strong enough, the trees could dance, the leaves whispering a tune, while the branches moved to the beat.

But most importantly, she noticed that people were beginning to notice _her._ Boys, to be more specific. Some merely glanced at her a little too much, while others nudged their friends and pointed, staring dreamily. Some even approached her. Violet had examined herself properly in the mirror for the first time since the attack, after she had been approached by a tall, menacing-looking man. She realized she was too pretty for her own good. She'd always thought that she'd love to have the attention of the opposite sex, but after what Marc had done, she was sure she could never trust a boy again, except for Ian, her best friend. How could she be sure that none of them would be like _him?_

That night, Violet promised herself to never trust a man again, (unless she had known him for her whole life or could be proved trustworthy) especially handsome ones, and made sure that she wouldn't ever be noticed again. She never styled her hair obsessively anymore, but left it down, so it could conceal as much of her face as it could. She wore dark, baggy clothes to hide her figure which was beginning to blossom and become more prominent as she entered teen hood. She only ever exposed her neck and her arms from the elbow down, even in the intense heat of a Southeast Asian summer. She kept her head and eyes down when she walked in the streets, so no one would notice the hazel orbs flecked with green and gold, and think them beautiful. So if she was ever to be noticed again, it would be to think her weird or ugly... ans she was perfectly fine with that. Her mother had thrown a fit when she first saw Violet dressed in baggy jeans, worn out Converse sneakers, a loose tee over a blouse and a hoodie on top, but her father had understood, and only gave her a sad nod.

Finally, Mrs. Fairwood's housekeeper, Mrs. Bucketts, a short chubby woman whom Violet though was too cheerful for her own good but liked anyway, wrenched the door open and squealed in delight.

"Ooh! Ma'am Susan has been waiting for you Ma'am Rose!" Mrs. Bucketts exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "And you've brought Miss Violet as well! Oh, Ma'am Susan _will_ be happy to see you before she..." her face faltered. Violet's grandmother saved the day.

"Well, what are we all waiting for?" she said. "Let's go see Susan!"

Mrs. Fairwood refused to stay in the master bedroom of the mansion, but in the spare rooms on one of the upper floors instead. Again, no one knew what drew her there. They all arrived in the spare room which was Mrs. Fairwood's, and knocked on the door.

"Ma'am Susan?" Mrs. Bucketts asked tentatively. "Someone's here to see you!"

Mrs. Fairwood's eyes, a beautiful light grey even in her old age, lit up as she saw Violet and her grandmother. Mrs. Fairwood and Violet's grandmother talked for a while, and Violet stood there awkwardly, gazing around the room, until her eyes settled on a wardrobe at the back of the room. She marveled at the intricacy of the carvings on the door; vines and flowers, a number of magical creatures... and them she saw the lion.

A flash of light cut across her vision, and she saw blurred images dance across her mind. Violet gasped as she saw someone who looked too much like herself... _no way, _she thought. _I could never be that happy. _The girl was laughing and walking with a light step, her eyes glinting with happiness.

Then she heard the voice. A deep voice ringing in her ears, that made her gasp in shock.

_REMEMBER, CHILD. THE TIME IS NEAR._

Violet's eyes flew open when she heard a deafening roar. She was lying on the dusty floor, everyone hovering over her. Mrs. Bucketts helped her up and asked if she was alright.

"I'm fine," Violet replied, nodding. "How long was I out?"

"Just a few seconds," her grandmother replied. "I was just talking to Susan, and then you looked at the wardrobe and then fainted! You gave us all a fright! Maybe you should go home..."

"No!" Violet said immediately. "I want to stay and talk to Mrs. Fairwood."

"Oh, Violet," Mrs. Fairwood sighed. "You don't have to-"

"I want to," Violet insisted, taking Mrs. Fairwood's hand. Her wrinkled face lit up.

"I would like Violet and I to be left alone, Rose. Mrs, Bucketts, why don't you see Rose to the sitting room?" Mrs. Fairwood asked them. They left the room, leaving Violet alone with the old lady. She then turned to Violet.

"Violet it is time. Go to the wardrobe over there and at the very back, look for Lucy," she whispered.

"Lucy?" Violet asked incredulously, looking at the frail woman as if she was crazy. "A _person? _At the back of your wardrobe?"

Mrs. Fairwood smiled and pointed to the wardrobe. Violet sighed in defeat. If it would make Mrs. Fairwood happy, then she would do it. She then walked to the wardrobe and opened it.

"Oh, and Violet?" Mrs. Fairwood called. "There's no need to come back. You'll see." her eyes twinkled. Violet nodded and entered the wardrobe, to look for whatever it was the senile old lady wanted, and more... though she didn't know it yet.

Author's note: This is my first fanfic, so go easy on me. See that little pretty blue button down there? How about clicking that for me, eh? Constructive criticism will be accepted, and I hope you all enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, and Violet?" Mrs. Fairwood called. "There's no need to come back. You'll see." her eyes twinkled. Violet nodded and entered the wardrobe, to look for whatever it was the senile old lady wanted, and more... though she didn't know it yet. She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows when she realized it was freezing inside the wardrobe. 

"What the heck..." Violet muttered, as she walked through the fur coats, feeling rather stupid. It was a rather huge wardrobe, and Violet was beginning to think it had no end until something hit her face. She gasped when she saw what it was.

"Holy shit!" Violet exclaimed. _What the heck was a snow-covered branch doing in a wardrobe? _She thought to herself. In her shock, she tripped over her feet and landed face first into something that should _not _have been in a wardrobe.

Snow. She got up and took in her surroundings. She was in a forest.

"I've got to be dreaming," she murmured to herself. She was about to turn around to go back, then she remembered Mrs. Fairwood's words.

_There's no need to come back. You'll see._

"Hello? Anyone there?' A voice called to her right. Violet jumped about a mile off the ground. She saw a young girl who looked just as lost as she was, but seemed to enjoy it.

"Hey, you there!" Violet called. The girl saw her, and ran towards Violet.

"Thank _God _someone else is here. Listen, do you live around here or something?" Violet asked, beginning to hyperventilate.

"Relax!" the little girl said in a British accent. "I'm not from around here either,"

"Relax?" Violet asked incredulously. "_Relax? _That makes it worse! Now we're both lost!" she said, throwing her hands in the air.

A snapping twig caught their attention. Violet looked around abruptly, searching frantically for the source of the noise. She could almost smell it - something dangerous was near. They both hid behind a lamp post, which Violet thought weird to have a random lamp post in the middle of a forest in the back of a wardrobe.

Snow crunched a couple of feet behind a tree, and they both screamed when they saw a pair of goat legs attached to the torso of a man step out. Violet began to hyperventilate again, fanning herself.

"Oh my God, oh my _God..._" Violet gasped repeatedly.

"Calm down, just breathe-" the little girl began.

"Calm down?" Violet shrieked. "How am I supposed to calm-"

"Stop," the girl said sternly. "I'm scared too. He must be too," she said, gesturing towards the goatman. They then both noticed him hiding behind a tree. The little girl smiled in a friendly way and approached him.

"Were you hiding from us?" she asked. The goatman looked around nervously, as the little girl picked up some parcels he had dropped.

"Well, uh... n-no, I... I didn't want to scare you," he stammered, obviously lying.

"If you don't mind my asking... what are you?" the girl asked curiously. Violet wanted to stop the girl right there. Her curiosity could get her into a lot of trouble, especially for a young girl like her. _Hasn't this girl learnt the most recited rule kids her age should? 'Don't talk to strangers'? _Violet wondered.

"Why," the goatman replied. "I'm a faun! And you must be some sort of beardless dwarf...?"

The girl laughed at his reply. It took all of Violet's self-control and willpower not to to kick the goatman right in his manly parts (or was it goatly?) and run away with the girl, for fear of her safety.

"I'm not a dwarf, I'm a girl! And actually, I'm the tallest in my class," she said smugly.

"And you," the faun asked Violet. "Must be a Daughter of Eve as well?"

"Oh, we're not sisters," the girl said. "And my mum's name is Helen..."

Violet face palmed herself mentally. _This girl is giving away personal information to a complete stranger,_Violet thought. She wanted to run, back to the wardrobe, back to reality... but she couldn't just leave the girl here.

"Yes, but you are... in fact... humans?" the faun said, looking slightly scared.

"No we're dragons," Violet snapped sarcastically. The young girl then gave Violet a look that clearly said 'be polite'.

"What are you doing here?" the faun asked.

"Well, I came in through the wardrobe in the spare room, and-"

"Spare 'Oom?" the faun cut in. "Is that in Narnia?"

Violet looked up. Now where had she heard that word before?

"Narnia?" the girl asked. "What's that?"

"Oh, my dear girl, you're in it!" the faun said, chuckling and pacing excitedly. "Everything from the lamp post, all the way to castle Cair Paravel on the Eastern Sea, every stick and stone, every icicle, is Narnia,"

"This is one heck on a big wardrobe," Violet muttered to herself. The faun then turned to them, smiling graciously.

"I;m sorry,' he said. "Please allow me to introduce myself. My name ins Tumnus."

"Glad to meet you Mr. Tumnus!" the girl replied. "I'm Lucy Pevensie. And this is..."

"Violet McMillan," Violet replied curtly. If everyone was going to play 'let's get raped by complete strangers', then she might as well play along, as long as she could make it out alive with the girl called Lucy... wait. Lucy. Mrs. Fairwood had told her to find Lucy! She decided to keep this information to herself and watched, amused as Mr. Tumnus stared at Lucy's outstretched hand.

"Oh, you shake it" Lucy explained. _No shit, Sherlock, _Violet thought.

"Why?" Tumnus asked, looking extremely bewildered. Both Lucy and Violet furrowed their brows in thought.

"I... I don't know!" Lucy said laughing. "People do it when they meet each other."

Violet then laughed out loud when she saw the faun use his thumb and forefinger to give Lucy's hand a wiggle. Lucy joined in the laughter and began swinging his hand instead. Mr. Tumnus then took his umbrella, opened it, and held out his arms to Lucy and Violet.

"Lucy Pevensie and Violet McMillan, from the shining city of War Drobe, in the wondrous land of Spare 'Oom, how would it be if you came and had tea with me? he invited, wiggling his eyebrows. Lucy then looked at Violet, then back at Mr. Tumnus, rather unsure.

'Well, thank you very much," Lucy started. "But... I probably should be getting back..."

Violet nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Listen, it's only just around the corner," he said a little to quickly and desperately. Violet's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Either this faun had no friends and was extremely desperate for one, or had something else on his mind... Violet would keep watch on Lucy, if it was the last thing she did. She suddenly had this overwhelming urge to protect Lucy at all costs.

"And there'll be a _glorious _fire, with toast and tea and caked... and perhaps, we'll even break into the sardines,"

Violet could tell from Lucy's expression that the prospect of sardines were extremely tempting.

"Oh, I don't know..." Lucy replied, sounding even more unsure, but Violet could see her resolve breaking - and she was sure Mr. Tumnus could see it too.

"Oh, come on," Tumnus begged. "It's not everyday I get to make a new friend,"

"Well I suppose I _could _come... if you have sardines," Lucy giggled.

"By the bucket load," he assured her. They then walked off to Mr. Tumnus' house, as Violet followed carefully behind them.

They trudged through the snow, until they reached a small, arched door built into the side of a cliff. Mr. Tumnus opened the door, and Lucy gasped when she peeked inside.

"Oh, you have a lovely home!" Lucy mused.

"Thank you very much," he replied.

Violet stood behind the two, waiting for Mr. Tumnus to finish shaking off all the snow on his fur and umbrella. She noticed him glance around, as if to see if anyone was watching.

"What're you looking at?" Violet snapped.

"Nothing in particular," he gulped. Then they both entered the house.

Lucy was looking around the place, admiring this and that, when she saw a framed photograph and picked it up.

"Ah, now that," Mr. Tumnus said. "is my father,"

"He has a nice face. You look very much alike," Lucy mused. Violet couldn't help but agree. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lucy put the photo down sadly, stroking the intricate design on the frame, while Tumnus mumbled something inaudible.

"My father's fighting in the war," Lucy said sadly.

_Hold on,_ Violet thought. _What war?_ As far as she knew, the British weren't having any wars since World War II... Violet zoned out of the conversation for a while, drowned in her thoughts. She thought about the day's events. Lucy was dressed like she was from the early 20th century or something, and her mention of her father fighting in the war placed her somewhere between World War one and two. She'd have to figure that out later. As for the faun, Tumnus, Violet could see he was a good person... with bad intentions. He seemed so desperate for Lucy's friendship. But his friendly aura confused Violet on what could possibly be his intentions, if not bad. _M__aybe he really just wants a friend, _Violet thought. She would allow that option, but she would always have another slot available for any other possibilities.

Suddenly, a beautiful tune, so mesmerizing, so _serene_, met her ears. She gasped at it's beauty in simplicity, turning to find its source, finding that it came from Tumnus. Lucy sat across from him, sipping hot tea. Violet too, sat down in one of the cozy armchairs. The melody was sad, one of those reminiscent types. The moroseness of the lullaby filled her ears, as she closed her eyes, drinking in it's intoxicating, enchanting sound. She found that the music was dancing across her mind, off to a place of n troubles, no fears, no worries... and inviting her to come. Violet, who'd had enough of those three things, obliged, and was claimed by a blissfully dreamless sleep, the first she'd had in three years.


	3. Chapter 3

Violet was shaken awake by Lucy, and she jumped up immediately to find the room almost in total darkness, except for a shaft of moonlight filtering in from the single tiny window, giving the once cozy room an eerie look. A smashed teacup lay at Lucy's feet, it's contents staining the carpet black.

She stood up, ready to hit anything that would try to hurt them. She strained her ears for any sounds that would hint at their not being alone. A small whimper had Violet and Lucy whirling around in the direction they had heard the noise. Violet saw it was the faun, Tumnus, crying in a corner. Violet was filled with rage as she went up to him, grabbed him by the red scarf around his neck, nearly strangling him, and smashed him against the wall.

"What do you want from us, you son of a bitch?" Violet snarled through clenched teeth. "What's going on here?"

She smashed him again, ignoring Lucy's yelps of surprise and shock

"I saw from the moment we met you, you had something up your sleeves."

Smash.

"You seemed a little desperate for us to come here."

Smash.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?" Violet roared.

Violet STOP!" Lucy shrieked, tears streaming down her face. Violet realized what she was doing. The faun hadn't even fought back. She dropped him in disgust, the pathetic goatman whimpering like a baby. Lucy rushed over to his side, handing him her handkerchief, wiping away his tears.

Mr. Tumnus hasn't done anything to us!" Lucy said, turning on Violet.

"You mean 'hasn't done anything' as is lure us to his home, drug and spike your tea, lull us to sleep, then God knows what else!" Violet yelled back in frustration.

"Violet's right," the faun whispered. They both turned to him in shock.

"No, _I _don't think so" Lucy said. "You're the nicest faun I've ever met!"

"No!" Tumnus said firmly. "I-I... I'm kidnapping you,"

Lucy's eyes widened in shock, and she began to back away.

"It's the White Witch!" he cried. "She said if we were to come across any humans, we were to turn them over to her to be killed!"

Tumnus was now blubbering, wailing wildly.

"Mr. Tumnus you wouldn't!" Lucy said, still shocked, betrayal racked in her voice.

"Oh yes he would," Violet snapped, taking Lucy's hand. "He just did. Now let's get out of here,"

"Please! Hear me out!" the faun begged. "The White Witch is the one who makes it always winter and never Christmas. If we don't obey her-"

"I don't care-"

"I can help you."

Violet was silenced.

"You're not going to turn us in?" Violet said slowly. The faun shuddered, then shook his head.

Soon, they were out the door, back in the snowy forest under the cover of nightfall, but the faun still insisted on stealth.

"We must move quietly," he whispered. " But quickly!"

They ran through the snow and trees for a long time, Violet ignoring the fact that the clothes she was wearing weren't exactly designed for a snowy winter's day, and that the snow was beginning to melt in her socks, soaking them, making the cold even worse.

"Hurry! The woods are full of her spies, Even some of the trees are on her side!" Tumnus said fearfully.

"If he tells us to hurry one more time," Violet said threateningly.

Finally, they reached the lamp post, which was still glowing brightly.

"Can you two find your way from here?" the faun asked, out of breath.

"I think so," Lucy replied, then looked at Violet questioningly.

"Oh, I came in the same way you did. I'll just go back with you," Violet said, with a wave of her hand. She just hoped she would end up back with Mrs. Fairwood, now that she'd found Lucy. :Lucy then nodded and turned to Mr. Tumnus, who was trying to give her back her handkerchief.

"Oh, no," Lucy laughed. " You keep it. You need it more than I do,"

Mr. Tumnus laughed along, then they hugged for one last time.

"Go on then," Mr Tumnus said. "Come on, go!"

Lucy began to run, but she stopped when she noticed that Violet has stayed put.

"Come on Violet!"

Violet looked back at Mr. Tumnus, and nodded towards him.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then she took off after Lucy, back through the sea of coats.

"Lucy, wait up!" Violet hissed.

Then Violet entered the spare room. _Where was Mrs. Fairwood? _Violet wondered. Lucy's voice from the lower floors pierced the air.

"I'm back! I'm back! It's alright, I'm back!"

"Shush!" another voice hissed. "He's coming!"

Violet froze. She didn't remember seeing any kids around the old mansion. Mrs. Fairwood lived alone, apart from Mrs. Bucketts, her caretaker. From the sound of it, this voice belonged to a male teenager.

"You know," a third voice, also male, said. "I'm not sure you two have quite gotten the idea of the game,"

"But weren't you wondering where I was?" Lucy said, confused.

"That's the point," the second voice said. " That's why he was seeking you."

"Does this mean I win?" another voice- female- asked.

"I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore," the third voice said.

But..." Lucy said, even more confused. "I've been gone for hours!"

Then there was a considerable amount of silence. Lucy then sighed exasperatedly.

"Oh, come on then," she said. "I'll show you,"

Then Violet heard her explain about the wardrobe and Narnia on the way up the stairs. Violet stood there panicking, not sure what to do. She was obviously in Mrs. Fairwood's mansion, but she wasn't actually in the mansion, at the same time... which didn't make any sense.

"...and then Mr. Tumnus- Violet!" Lucy squealed. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Violet said slowly, observing the other people who were with Lucy, who were doing the same thing with her. Lucy was flanked by two teenage boys and a girl.

"Lucy," one of the boys said. "Who is this?"

Violet looked towards the speaker and found herself tensing up immediately. _Oh no, God no, _Violet thought. _Boy.s Hot boys. Dangerous. _She started staring at her feet.

"Oh," Lucy piped up, unaware of the awkwardness and tension in the room. "This is Violet, the one I told you about. We met each other in Narnia. Right Violet?" Lucy asked, looking up at her and taking her arm.

"Well, um... yeah. I met Lucy in the magical land in the back of the wardrobe." Violet said quickly. She then realized how stupid that sounded, and with the way the others were gawking at her, they thought so too.

"But it's there, I swear to God it's there. The magical land. In the back of the wardrobe... yeah." Violet said, her voice faltering.

Then the older girl, whom Violet thought was extremely pretty, narrowed her eyes at Violet skeptically and approached the wardrobe. The other two followed suit, and began checking the wardrobe, knocking all over the wood, before entering it and searching inside.

"I suppose you'd want to know who they are," Lucy said. Violet nodded.

"Okay, so the girl is Susan, my older sister. the boy, the one with the dark hair, is Edmund, my older brother. And the blond one is Peter, my eldest brother."

"Wow, all these people are your siblings?" Violet said, rather surprised. "That's a lot of brothers and sisters,"

Lucy laughed at the face Violet was making.

"Oh, and Lucy?" Violet asked. "Why are you all dressed like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're from the 1940's,"

"We _are _in the 1940's,"

"No, it's 2012,"

"Violet, it's 1942,"

Violet stopped. So it explained everything. Why Mrs' Fairwood wasn't there. Their clothes. The war... hang on. The war.

"Wait, it's 1942," Violet said, beginning to hyperventilate. Then that means Hitler could fly over us right now, and drop a bomb on us. It's World War II isn't it?"

Violet began to _really _hyperventilate. Lucy began to frantically fan air towards Violet.

"Lucy," the girl called Susan said. "the only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."

"One game at a time Lu," the boy named Peter added. "We don't all have your imagination. Now, about Violet-"

"But I wasn't imagining!" Lucy whined.

"Lucy, that's enough. Violet is obviously a... confused girl, and homeless by the looks of it." Susan said.

"I'm _not _homeless!" Violet exclaimed angrily.

"Then will you pleas explain why you are dressed in rag like clothes,"

Violet was silenced. She didn't want to talk about that night.

"It's a long story," Violet muttered.

"which probably ended up with you on the streets. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go tell the professor that there's a homeless lunatic in his upstairs spare room," Susan snapped.

"Well I believe you," the boy named Edmund piped up.

"You do?" Lucy said, sounding disbelieving.

"Yeah, didn't I tel you about the football field I found in the bathroom cupboard? Oh, and I met a talking squirrel there too." he said, smirking.

Violet immediately disliked Edmund's attitude. He was being such a jerk in a time of family crisis. To refrain from punching him, she glared at him intensely instead.

"Oh, why don't you just stop?" Peter said exasperatedly, as if he had said that too many times before. "You always have to make things worse, don't you? When are you going to learn to grow up?"

"SHUT UP!" Edmund yelled. "You think you're dad, but you're NOT!"

Then he stormed out of the room.

"Well that was nicely handled," Susan said sarcastically, then followed her younger brother out the door. Peter just glanced at the two remaining girls.

"I'm sorry," he said, then walked out as well.

"Oh, he'll be sorry," Lucy muttered menacingly. "Don't worry, Violet. I'll go knock some sense into them.

Then she stormed out of the room, leaving Violet alone.

Suddenly the shock of the day's events got to her - it was too much. She collapsed onto the floor and sobbed, huge gut-wrenching sobs, heaving with tears.

And for once, she let herself.

**Author's Note: Okay, just wanna say, I'm really happy.. no happy doesn't cut it. ECSTATIC that people are reading and reviewing my fanfic! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! Because of this, I've posted 3 chapters in 3 days. I might not be able to keep this up, but if I keep getting reviews at the current rate, the most you'll have to wait for an update is about two days, three days tops. Reviews really make me happy and motivate any author. So what are you waiting for? REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy ran after her two eldest siblings. Lucy was on the verge of tears, for so many emotions were spinning inside her, threatening to knock her down.

Pity for Violet, whom her sibling thought to be crazy. Anger at Edmund and Susan, for not believing them and being so cruel towards Violet. Confusion at Peter, who for some reason was now trying to convince Susan not to tell the professor. He apologizes to her and Violet for intending to kick out Violet, then starts trying to convince Susan to tel her stay, like a child begs his mother for a puppy. But most of all, doubt, towards herself. What if her sibling were right? What if Narnia was simply a figment of her imagination? If so, then what about Violet? Where did she come from? Who was she?

Lucy graoned inwardly. _ Question, questions, questions..._

She finally reached her two siblings, and was shocked to see the magnitude of their argument. She had heard them shouting from below, but she hadn't imagined the fight to be so serious - they were wrestling each other quite literally, Peter holding Susan in a headlock, trying to prevent her from advancing any further towards the professor's door to knock on it.

"No, Susan!" Peter yelled. "You can't tell!"

"Well why not?" Susan shot back. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't walk down those last few stairs and knock on the professor's door, right now!"

Peter suddenly stopped struggling to pin down Susan arm's. Why did he want the girl to stay? _Why, Peter? _A voice in his head challenged. _What's so special about a homeless lunatic like her? _Peter silenced the voice and struggled to find a good reason. If he was going to be honest, he had nothing but a gut feeling to go on. He'd gained this gut feeling over the years, and had learned to trust it. And right now, that gut feeling was telling him that the girl was important. He didn't know why, but when the gut feeling told him something, he didn't ask questions and listened to it.

"You see?" Susan said smugly. "You can't think of one. _Because there isn't one. _Now, if you excuse me-"

"Wait!" Peter cried, flinging himself in front of Susan's outstretched hand. "I've got a reason."

"Peter, I don't have time for this-"

"You said one reason and I've got one - the McCready."

"What's she got to do with a homeless lunatic?"

"'There shall be no disturbing of the professor,'" Peter quoted.

"Since when did you follow rules?" Susan scoffed.

"Well, would you like me to stop?" Peter invited.

"No!" Susan yelled. "Fine. You win. She gets to stay. But why on earth would you want her to?"

"Curiosity," Peter shrugged. "So Peter Pevensie is right for once,"

"Just this once," Susan said, folding her arms over her chest. and only because we don't want to disturb the professor,"

Peter looked smug as he walked off. Susan noticed Lucy standing there, watching her silently.

"You heard everything, didn't you?" Susan asked her.

Lucy broke into a grin and ran off in Peter's direction. Susan sighed - she'd figured as much.

_I hate being wrong, _Susan thought.

Night had already fallen, and Violet had finally stopped crying when she noticed the almost complete darkness enveloping her. Only a small bit of moonlight managed to stray through the menacing rain clouds, lighting up a small patch of the floor, dust particles swirling around it. Violet loved watching dust in the light. They danced so beautifully, mesmerizing her. She watched them swirl gracefully, then slowly sink to the floor.

She couldn't help but think of the four siblings. Lucy, who was obviously the youngest one, gave out this aura of innocence, that made everyone around her want to protect her. Violet suspected it was the innocence and fragility in her that caught most people. Her big blue, short brown hair and adorable smile was just that - innocent.

Susan, obviously didn't like her very much. Violet understood. She just wanted things to be normal, and being a teenage girl during World War II (Violet finally came to terms with herself - what with the events of the day, she would now believe almost anything she heard) was not an easy time to be normal. Susan was, without a doubt, very beautiful. From what Violet could tell, she was also a bossy know-it-all, but beautiful nonetheless. Her dark chocolate curls only highlighted her flawless pale ivory skin, her nose and lips were perfectly proportioned in size, and she had long thick lashes to frame two perfect orb of magnificently calm grey. _Perfection in complexion, _Violet thought.

As for Peter and Edmund, _boy _was she confused.

After Marc, she had sworn to herself never to swoon over another boy again, yet here she was, faced by two gorgeous ones. Peter was of medium but strong build, tall, and extremely handsome. He had dirty blond hair and startlingly electric blue eyes, bluer than Lucy's, that if met by your gaze, you would be shocked by the clarity of the blue sky that stared back at you - which is exactly what he had done to Violet. He had shocked her. with his voice and aura of leadership and authority (which probably came with a huge ego) and his blue eyes.

As for Edmund, she had hated him, and even though she had only met him, she really did. Yet, she couldn't help but notice how his dark brown hair, darker than Susan's, and warm chocolate brown eyes were so dark and mysterious, that Violet was sure would make any girl swoon for more. His attitude however, made Violet want to walk right up to him and hit him across the face. There were only three things however, that kept her from doing so. Firstly, she didn't really know him yet, and she could be wrong about him. Second, even though she wasn't scared, she wasn't sure she'd be able to win in a fight with him, as he had the advantage of being male, hence much stronger than her. Thirdly, with the way Peter was glaring so intensely at Edmund earlier, she was sure Peter would probably beat him up, sooner or later.

Violet sighed. Handsome or not, they were still boys. She couldn't trust them.

Then it hit her. She was all alone in a dark room, with two teenage boys downstairs who could take advantage of a "homeless lunatic" like her any old time. And as if on cue, she heard someone knock gently on the door.

"May I come in?" a deep voice said from behind the door. Violet held her breath and didn't reply, hoping that he would go away. She heard a sigh, and the door creaked open. Peter stood there, a bag slung on him arm, and a tray of food, lit by a flickering candle. he walked over to her, and put the things he had brought on the floor next to her, where she was curled up in a tight ball, cringing away from him, her eyes filled with fear. He began to step back when he noticed her face, illuminated by the candlelight. She had prominent cheekbones, and lightly tanned skin, tinted brown. Her lip were like two petals placed together, voluptuous and pink. Her hair, which was a light brown, fell straight down, smooth and silky, but limp and lifeless. But the feature he was most captivated by was her eyes. Two peculiar hazel orbs flecked with green and gold, lined by long, curly lashes.

_Beautiful, _he thought. Then he mentally slapped himself. What was he thinking? He had only met her this afternoon. He couldn't go thinking thing like that about her!

Violet seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"What are you staring at?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing," he replied, quickly looking away. "I just brought you some food change of clothes. Susan lent some of her things to you,"

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother-"

"No, it's alright. She owes you, after what she said to you earlier,"

"But-"

"No buts. Now eat your food. You must be hungry,"

"What if I'm not?" Violet challenged.

"Then," Peter said, sitting down in front of her. "I'm going to stay here until you finish all that food,"

Violet froze. She couldn't have him staying here. Then she picked up her fork and began to eat. Peter was right - she was hungry. Before long, the tray was devoid of food, and she heard peter chuckling.

"What?" Violet snapped.

"Oh it's just that you eat as much as Edmund does, and both of you breathe in your food too," he laughed.

"Like you said, I was hungry," Violet muttered. Peter then noticed red rims around her eyes, and a red nose. How could he have not noticed before?

"Have you been crying?" he asked gently.

"What's it to you?" Violet snapped back. She could see what he was trying to do. He was trying to get her to open up to him, get all emotional, so he could get in her pant so much easier.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Peter said, kindness in those big blue eyes of his.

Violet snorted. "That's what they all say, look where that got me," Then she stopped. _Stupid, _she cursed herself. She'd just invited him to ask more abut her.

"Where _did _it get you?" he asked.

"Well it's not like I'm going to tell you, someone whom I've only known for like, a day, am I?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking these types of questions,"

Then he got up and brushed his pants.

"You know," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "If you need anything, things to do, someone to talk to-"

Violet yelped and slapped his hand away. Peter looked at her, shocked to see anger bubbling in her eyes.

"Don't touch me," she snarled. "And get out!"

Peter then silently left the room, felling more confused than ever.

Who was this girl?

Lucy was lying in her bed, staring at the flickering candle, watching the flame dance, the melted wax trickle. Peter had become quiet, barely responding to anyone, lost in thought after coming back from giving Violet some food and clothes. Lucy mulled over the day's events and wondered what on earth could have happened in the spare room...

Peter couldn't sleep, and judging by Lucy's lit candle, she couldn't either. He had met his share of girls, and at 17, he was beginning to look for more in a girl other than just a pretty face. He used to think that he'd be content with a pretty girl to show off to his friends, but he was almost a man now, and in the midst of the war, had been forced to grow up faster than the rest of his siblings, so that they wouldn't have to.

But Violet, she was... different. Not that he was attracted to her, she just confused him, that was all. She didn't fawn over him and his looks, like most girls did around him, wildly batting their eyelashes. She didn't restrain herself from eating too much (or was she just extremely hungry?). But most of all, she was a closed book. Earlier she had said "look where that got me", and that had only increased his curiosity. Not in the sense that he liked her, but for goodness sake, the girl claimed to come from the future, met his sister in a magical land in the back of a wardrobe, and come back out into what she claimed to be the past! of course one would be curious. Sure she was paranoid, but judging from the way she had reacted when her touched her, she wasn't crazy, just scared... which led her to become crazy. Peter sighed in frustration.

He was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the only light leave the room - along with its source in the hands of his youngest sister.

**Author's Note: Just wanna say, if there's anyone out there who would like to give constructive criticism, don't be hesitant – as long as there's no hating. The rate of which I post chapters is gonna slow down a bit, as I've got two busy weeks ahead of me, so you'll probably be getting chapters every 3 or 4 days, 2 if you're lucky.**

**The reason why it takes such a long time for me to type out each chapter, even though I've already written the whole thing out on paper, is because I'm doing all of this at like 3 in the morning, when my parents are asleep, until 6:30, when my parents wake up. I'm strictly not allowed to use the computer unless it's for studying. So I'm usually half asleep when I type stuff out, so be grateful that I use autocorrect and that I'm losing sleep for you guys. But don't worry, I don't mind it.**

**I guess this is a shorter chapter than usual, but I want to build up the tension… so if you wanna find out what happens next, review! **

**REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

Edmund had just gone to the bathroom and was about to go back to his warm comfy bed, when he saw something. Lucy was walking down the hall towards the stairs to, where he assumed, the wardrobe upstairs. Edmund grinned evilly and followed his sister quietly.

He had followed her all the way to outside the spare room, when Lucy closed the door before he could follow her in. Edmund was about to turn back when he heard his sister.

"Violet!" Lucy hissed. "Wake up!"

_Of course, _Edmund mused. _Peter and Lucy are keeping the girl here, like a pet. _He had wanted Susan to tell the professor about the girl, which was the first time he'd ever agreed with her, or with anyone at all for the matter.

"Violet!" Lucy hissed again, and by the way Violet replied, he could tell she was being violently shake awake by Lucy.

"What in the name of God do you want? Let me sleep!" Violet groaned.

"Come on, I'm going to visit Mr. Tumnus again! You have to come, please?" Lucy begged.

Violet groaned again, and judging from the silence, had fallen back asleep. Edmund waited for a while to make sure Lucy was already in the wardrobe before entering the room.

His head peeked through the door, his eyes scanning the room. Lucy was nowhere in sight, and the girl was asleep in the far side of the room, curled up under a borrowed quilt, using her arm for a pillow. She was lightly snoring as he crept towards the door of the wardrobe... or so he thought. The next thing he knew, his face was being pressed against the dusty wooded floorboards, a hand over his mouth, and another pinning his hands behind his back.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" a voice hissed in his ear. The hand was released from his mouth, so he could speak.

"Let me go!" he said defiantly.

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands here," the voice scoffed. The he was released. He got up to see his attacker and was shocked to find it was the girl.

He had been beaten by a _girl. _A homeless lunatic one, nonetheless. Violet seemed to be thinking the same thing, and smirked at Edmund's shocked face.

"Surprised to see the opposite sex beat you?" she taunted.

"No, I was simply just being a gentleman," he lied.

"Yeah right, like you'd ever want to do that for me," she snorted in a very un-lady like manner. "And you never answered my question. What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, so it's illegal to follow my own sister now, is it?" he replied sarcastically.

"I never said it was,"

"You were implying it."

"No I wasn't,"

"Yes, you were,"

"Keep on thinking that. I don't care." she said with finality. "Now if you don't mind, can you get the heck out of here so I can go back to sleep?"

"No. I want to find Lucy,"

"Then I'll have to come with you,"

Edmund sighed in irritation. Why was the girl being so stubborn?

"I don't see why you'd have to. It's just the back of a wardrobe for goodness sake!" he complained.

"FYI, I still stand by the existence of Narnia in this wardrobe,"

"Whatever. Let's go."

Then he moved aside to let Violet enter first, as was his habit. But Violet smiled sweetly and gestured for him to go first.

"Ladies first," she said, batting her eyelashes innocently. Edmund scowled as she pushed him aside, nearly knocking him over as she entered first. He then followed her inside.

"Lucy!" he called. "Hope you're not afraid of the dark!"

Then he closed the door, blocking any light from coming in. He was extremely confused when he didn't hear Lucy screaming and running out.

"You goddamn idiot!" Violet hissed. "Now we might not be able to get out!"

"Stop worrying! Look," then opened the door by an inch. "Happy?'

Violet sighed then moved forward, then gasped.

"Yess!" she hissed. Edmund was confused, until a branch hit him squarely in the face.

"What on_ earth-_" he started, then he tripped on something and fell face first into snow.

"Am I still a homeless lunatic?" Violet smirked from above him, her arms folded across her chest.

"A lunatic? No. Homeless? Yes." he replied, getting up and dusting snow off his pyjamas.

Violet scowled and trudged off to find Lucy.

Edmund suddenly heard something.

"Violet?" he asked, addressing her for the first time using her name. "Why do I hear bells?"

"Well how am I supposed to-" she started, then froze in her tracks. "Oh no. Edmund run! No wait. It's too late. Prepare yourself Edmund,"

The sound of bells got closer and soon, a sleigh driven being pulled by two white reindeer whooshed past, coming to stop right in front of them. They both were forced to fall back into the snow to avoid being run over by the sleigh. Violet took advantage of this and crawled away, climbing up a tree, covered by the branches. Edmund tried to do the same, but it was too late. A dwarf jumped out of the sleigh, running towards Edmund. Edmund tried to run, but the dwarf anticipated the move. He pulled out a whip and it hit Edmund's legs, wrapping around them and tripping him.

"What is it this time, Ginnarbrik?" a voice sighed exasperatedly from the sleigh, a female voice filled with authority.

"He won't let go!" Edmund cried.

"Is that how you address the Queen of Narnia?" the dwarf snarled.

"I didn't know!"

"Well, you shall know her better hereafter!" Then he raised his dagger to plunge it into Edmund's chest.

"Wait!" the voice from the sleigh called. Edmund looked up to see a beautiful tall woman. Edmund stopped breathing for a while as he gazed upon her. She had skin as pale as the surrounding snow. Her long, platinum blond hair was styled elegantly in a tight bun at the top of her head. She held herself with authority, that gave out an air that reminded anyone that wasn't her, of their inferiority to her. But what captivated and scared Edmund the most was her eyes. They were a pure black, the darkness of it seeming to read him, see him down into his soul.

"What is your name, Son of Adam?" she inquired.

"Edmund," he replied fearfully

"And how was it, _Edmund,_" she said, his name rolling off her tongue like poison. "That you came to enter my dominion?"

"I'm not sure, I was just following my sister-"

"Your sister?" she said sharply. "How many are you?"

"Four," he replied. "Lucy's the only one who's been here before, and she said she met some faun called Tumnus. Peter and Susan didn't believe her. I didn't either.

Suddenly a kind smile turned up the corners of the Queen's lips that didn't seem to reach her eyes, which were still cold and black despite her warm smile.

"Edmund, you look so cold! Come sit with me," she invited, and Edmund sat next to her in the Queen put her fur cloak around him, which surprisingly held no warmth despite the fact that the Queen had been wearing it.

"Now," she said."how about something to drink?"

"Yes please...Your Majesty," he added for good measure. She smiled at him then took a tiny glass vial from her side, opened it, and let a drop of it mysterious contents fall to the snow. Vines of metal snaked through the air, entwining itself into an intricately decorated goblet filled with hot, steaming liquid. The dwarf named Nikarrbrik picked it up and handed it to Edmund. He took a tentative sip... it was delicious, nothing like he had ever tasted before. It filled him with warmth... and something else he couldn't exactly put his finger on.

"How did you do that?" he asked, amazed.

"I can make anything you like," she bragged. She had said the words that led everyone human to disaster - anything you like.

"Could you make me taller?" he asked, sounding extremely hopeful, the greed beginning to take its toll. The Queen chuckled.

"Anything you would like to _eat_," she explained, putting unnecessary emphasis on the last word. Edmund pondered on that line of thought, scouring his mind for anything in particular that he found appetizing. His mind settled on those mouthwatering sweets, lightly dusted in sugary white snow,or snowy white sugar... whichever he liked.

"How about Turkish Delight?" he asked. The Queen once again let a drop fall from her vial. This time, the vines shaped themselves instead into a small, circular box. The Queen took Edmund's goblet and gave it to the dwarf, who flung it at a tree, turning into snow on impact. The dwarf then picked up the box, and handed it to Edmund. He opened to box, his eyes glistening with greed as he picked up a sugary piece and took a bite. Again it was delicious. And again, he got that feeling that there was something else, but ignored it. He quickly devoured that piece, and went for another. And another. And another.

As he ate, the Queen observed him.

"Edmund, I'd very much like to meet the rest of your family," she said, all too innocently.

"Why?" he asked, clearly annoyed. "They're nothing special."

"Oh, I'm sure they're not," the Queen replied with a wave of her hand. Then she grabbed the dwarfs hat and used it to wipe Edmund's mouth, then continued talking. "Not nearly as delightful as _you _are, Edmund. But you see, I have no children of my own. And you are exactly the sort of boy who I could see, one day becoming Prince of Narnia... maybe even King."

She let the last word hang in the air for Edmund to consider.

"But of course," she continued." You'd have to bring you family,"

Then Edmund's face fell. "Oh, do you mean... Peter will be king too?" he asked.

"No, no!" the Queen laughed, as if what he had said was the funniest thing in the world. "Oh no, no! But... a king needs servants,"

Edmund was seriously beginning to consider this. The mere idea of the _possibility _that he could be king, while his siblings served him... and Turkish Delight...

"I... I guess I could bring them," he said with a small smile. The Queen smiled at him, and leaned over, pointing.

"Beyond these woods, do you see those two little hills? My house is right between them. You'd love it there Edmund," she said, helping him off her sleigh. "It has a whole room, simply _stuffed _with Turkish Delight."

"Could I... have some more now?" he asked tentatively.

"NO!" the Queen almost shouted. Then she took in Edmund's taken aback face, and rephrased. "I don't want to ruin your appetite. Besides, you and I are going to be seeing each other very soon, aren't we?"

"I hope so Your Majesty," Edmund laughed.

"Then until then, dear one... hmm," she sighed. "I'm going to miss you,"

Then the Queen leaned back in her sleigh, signaling the dwarf to go, and they took off. Edmund waited until he was sure they were out of earshot, then began looking for the girl.

"Violet!" he called. "Where are you? She's gone now!"

Violet jumped down from her tree. She had tried to hear the awfully long conversation between Edmund and the Witch, but she was just simply too high up to hear anything and didn't want to risk going down a couple of branches and falling out. So she glared at Edmund instead.

"How did you talk to the Witch and get out alive?" she asked him, eyes narrowed in suspicion, her arms folded across her chest.

"Oh, you mean the Queen?"

"Is that what she told you?" Violet scoffed. "And you didn't answer my question. How are you still here?"

"And I would tell you because...?"

"Because you're human." Violet explained, annoyed. "She's the one who makes this place always winter. And apparently, she's also out to kill every human that crosses her line of sight,"

"Then why didn't she kill me?" Edmund asked.

"I dunno, you tell me. That's what I've been asking. You must've done said something to make her let you go, which is why I don't trust you. You could be working together for all I know."

Edmund wasn't sure how to answer her. How had she figured out so much? He decide to avoid the question altogether, and try a different approach.

"You don't trust people very easily, do you?" he sneered, trying to intimidate her with his looks - he was fourteen and handsome... and he knew it, and used it to his advantage. " In your mind, they're all out to get you. Now why is that?" He asked, his face mere inches from hers.

Violet froze. She glared even more intensely at him, her hazel eyes piercing his warm chocolate ones.

"If you're trying to get to know me, gain my trust, then maybe you should start by not calling me a homeless lunatic," she snarled. Then she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down with all her might. She then walked away, leaving Edmund lying in the snow, feeling extremely confused.

Who was this girl?

Violet trudged off through the snow, fuming. How dare he flirt with her! It made her so angry to think that her efforts to never be talked to like that again had gone to waste - she now had two gorgeous boys hot on her heels. Oh, what was she thinking? She was not allowed to moon over them. The fact that they were brothers didn't make things any easier.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around her waist.

"Violet!" the owner of the arms squealed. Violet sighed in relief when she saw it was only Lucy.

"Lucy!" she gasped. "Don't _ever _do that again! If I hadn't looked, I would've snapped both your arms off!"

Lucy giggled.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Well... if you haven't noticed... you threaten people a lot. It's rather cute," Lucy snickered.

"I am _not _cute when I threaten people!" Violet protested.

"Yes, you are," a deep voice said from behind her.

"Edmund!" Lucy squealed, running to hug her brother. "You got in too! Isn't it wonderful?"

But Edmund seemed to feel disgusted at Lucy's hug, trying to uncomfortably shrug out of it.

"Alright, alright, that's enough," he muttered.

"So where did you go?" Violet asked Lucy.

"With Mr. , he's fine! The White Witch hasn't found out anything about him meeting me!"

"The White Witch?" Edmund asked.

"Speaking of her, Ed just ran into her. But for some reason she let him walk away." Violet told Lucy. "Now, could you please explain who the White Witch is to Ed?"

"Oh, The White Witch. Well, she calls herself the Queen of Narnia, but she really isn't."\

Suddenly, Edmund paled.

"Ed, are you alright?" Lucy asked, frowning. "You look awful!"

"Well what do you expect?" Edmund replied. "It's freezing! I mean, how do we get out of here?"

"Come on, let's get back," Violet said, walking away in the snow.

Lucy nodded and grabbed her brother's hand, dragging him along.

"Peter! Susan! Wake up!" Lucy squealed, turning on the lights and jumping on Peter quite literally, violently shaking him awake. This was why Lucy was their alarm clock - if she wanted someone awake, they would be.

"It's all there! It's really there in the wardrobe like I told you!" Lucy continued to jump up and down, nearly pushing Peter off the bed.

"You must've been dreaming, Lucy," Susan said, approaching them.

"But I haven't! Lucy insisted, her voice continually increasing in volume, loud enough to be heard on the other side of a football pitch. "I saw Mr. Tumnus again! And _this_time, Edmund came with me and Violet!"

They all looked skeptically at Edmund, who had his hands in his pockets, eyes stuck on the floor.

"You... saw the faun?" Peter asked him, eyes narrowwed.

"Well, he didn't actually go there with me... what were you doing Edmund?"

They all stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"I...I was just playing along," Edmund said, laughing nervously. :Lucy's face crumbled. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have encouraged her. You know how _little _children are these days. They just don't know when to stop pretending,"

Edmund sat on his bed with a satisfied smirk. Lucy was now in full crying mode, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she rushed out of the room. Susan threw her youngest brother a look of pure disgust and followed Lucy out of the room. Peter did the same, and gave Edmund a rough push on the way, making him fall back into his bed and exclaim in pain.

When Peter and Susan finally caught up to Lucy, they could only stand there in shock at the sight of Lucy tightly hugging an old mad with an electric white beard and hair to match, crying hysterically into his chest. It was the professor.

"You children are _one shenanigan shy _ of sleeping in the stables-" Mrs. McCready threatened, then stopped to stare at the strange sight before her eyes_._

_"_Professor, I'm sorry." Mrs Mcready began, with a bow towards the professor. "I told them that you were _not _to be disturbed,"

"It's alright Mrs. McCready," the professor said kindly, giving Lucy a pat on the back. "I'm sure there's an explanation. But first of all, I think this one is is need of a little hot chocolate,"

"Come along dear," Mrs. McCready said, showing the first sign since they had arrived, that she held some kindness in her heart. Lucy nodded, and the old housekeeper put an arm around her, whose crying had now been reduced to sniffles and hiccups, leading her towards the kitchens.

Peter and Susan began to walk away, but the professor had other ideas on his mind. He coughed, making the two eldest Pevensies turn around. he gestured for them to enter his office, and they felt an overwhelming sense of dread, like little children being sent to the principal's office, something Peter hadn't had to experience in a long time, and something Susan had never experienced at all.

Then they followed the professor inside.

**Author's Note: OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO LONG. I've been so busy, we've just moved to a new flat, and we only had the Internet installed last night, and I haven't been able to use the computer in such a long time. I know it's no excuse, but I'm still sorry anyway. I'll make it up to you guys! Promise! You'll probably find a new chapter within tomorrow or the day after, then after that, it's gonna be two chapters a week.**

**Oh, and even though I probably don't deserve it, PLEASE REVIEW! It gets me going.**

**REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

The professor sat at his desk, and invited Susan and Peter to sit in the chairs opposite him, which they declined. He then picked up a tobacco pipe, and began filling it, despite Susan's disapproving glances at it.

"You seem to have upset the delicate internal balance of of my house keeper,"

"We're very sorry sir," Peter said quickly, grabbing Susan's arm and steering her out of the room, "It won't happen again."

Susan only wrenched her arm out of his grasp and glared at her brother, then addressed the professor.

"It's our sister, sir, Lucy," she said, a tone of desperation in her voice.

"The weeping girl," the professor said, not looking at them, still filling his pipe.

"Yes, she's upset,"

"Hence the weeping,"

Peter had had enough. What was his sister thinking, telling the professor personal problems he clearly didn't have time for?

"It's nothing," he insisted, grabbing Susan's arm again. "We can handle it,"

"Oh, I can see that," the professor replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"She thinks she's found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe!" Susan blurted, desperate for a reaction from the professor before Peter could say anything more.

And she succeeded.

"What did you say?" the professor asked disbelievingly, his eyes wide. He got up from his desk and led them towards a small couch where they could converse easier.

"Er... the wardrobe, upstairs," Peter said tentatively, sitting himself and Susan down on the couch. "Lucy thinks she's found a forest inside,"

"She won't stop going on about it!" Susan exclaimed, finally glad to see a satisfactory reaction from the professor.

"What was it like?" the professor asked, looking extremely interested.

"Like talking to a lunatic!" Susan cried.

"No, not her, the forest," the professor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're not saying you believe her?" Peter asked, incredulous.

"Well, you don't?" the professor asked, clearly confused.

"Well of _course _ not!" Susan exclaimed. She couldn't believe someone as well read and knowledgeable as the professor would defy logic, her guiding light in life. "I mean, logically, it's impossible!"

"What do they teach in schools these days?" the old man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Edmund said they we're only pretending," Peter said, trying to convince the professor that the land in the wardrobe couldn't possibly exist.

"And he's usually the more truthful one is he?" the professor challenged, now beginning to light up a match.

"Well... this would be the first time," Peter admitted.

"Then if she's not mad and she's not lying, then _logically,_" the professor said, looking at Susan intently, who cringed. She hated having her logic used against

her, something Peter and her other siblings did too often. " you must assume she's telling the truth,"

The professor was now holding up the lit match to his pipe, ignoring Susan's glaring that was growing more intense by the moment

"So you're saying... we should just believe her?" Peter asked incredulously.

"She's your sister, isn't she?" the professor said, now huffing furiously on his pipe, which was emitting smoke profusely. "You're a family! You might just try acting like one."

The two eldest siblings looked at each other, nether being able to believe that this man was a professor. Then together they left the room, feeling more confused than ever.

Violet tried to go back to sleep, curled up on the dusty wooden floor that refused to warm up from her body temperature. She had nothing but a thin, musty old quilt which was the most that they could give her. Not to mention, her clothes, baggy jeans, a short sleeved tee over a long sleeved blouse, and her favorite worn down hoodie over that, weren't exactly designed for a cold, English night - Violet was shivering. But even worse, she refused to change out of her clothes into the ones that Susan had lent her, which was a plain white blouse, a checkered sweater, some knee length socks and a plaid skirt... much too girly for her. And plus, she hated skirts. She always had, even before the attack.

The other reason she couldn't sleep was Edmund. From his attitude earlier, she knew something was up with that boy. The fact that he was able to worm his way out of being killed by the Witch screamed at Violet, 'not safe, not safe'. He must've offered her something in exchange for his life, but she doubted the Witch would keep her end of the bargain, from what she had heard about her from Mr. Tumnus.

She knew Edmund couldn't be trusted, and until she could find something to prove it otherwise, he was going to remain the jerkface boy who wasn't trustworthy in her eyes. And that was how she fell asleep, looking for something to prove her senses wrong. Because, as much as she disliked him and his arrogant attitude, she wanted to trust him.

Violet awoke the next morning to another knock on the door. She stretched a bit, massaging her sore spots from sleeping on the floor. She then got up and opened the door, and she didn't at all like who was behind it.

"Good morning," Peter said, yet again holding a tray laden with food.

"What do you want?" Violet snapped.

"Fine. I guess you wouldn't mind starving for today then," he said, about to walk away.

"Okay, fine!" Violet sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry for being so jumpy,"

Peter gave her a small smile which for some reason, made Violet's heart flutter slightly. As Peter entered the room, laying the tray of food down in front of her, she couldn't help but notice how nice he looked in the morning,his hair ruffled, the sunlight dancing off it...

_Stop it, _Violet scolded herself. _He's just another hot hunk trying to get in your pants. He can't be trusted!_

_Then why did you let him in? _a small voice at the back of her head challenged her. _If he could hurt you so easily, then why?_

_Because I need food, dammit! _she yelled at the voice in her mind. Violet sighed. Great. Now she was talking to herself. She was beginning to live up to certain aspects of her name - homeless lunatic girl.

"Why are you so jumpy?" Peter asked, interrupting her inner war with herself.

"Huh?"

"I asked why you're you're jumpy,"

"Well, I'm not going to tell you that. But what I can tell you that if you want me to stop, I suggest you avoid all physical contact with me. Wait, I take that back. Any contact at all, yeah, that's great."

"But _why?_" Peter pushed on.

"Why would you care?" Violet snapped, turning on him. Peter's expression of curiosity and pity suddenly turned into a glare.

"You're right," he said, getting up. "Why would I?"

Then he left Violet alone in the room.

Violet had gone through the bag Peter had given her the previous night, desperate for something to do. To her delight, she had found a small, blank notebook. She now had something to entertain herself. She looked around the room, looking for something to sketch. She settled by the window, and saw the four siblings outside, enjoying the fresh air and sunlight. There was Lucy, under a tree, reading a book. Yes, that would be perfect.

She rummaged through her many pockets that her baggy jeans contained, and pulled a pencil tipped with an eraser out of the lowest pocket. She always kept a lot of seemingly unnecessary things in her pockets, like pencils, guitar picks, little pocket knives, lighters, practically anything - she was always prepared for that moment when she'd need something, and today was no different.

She sat by the window and pulled her tray towards her, nibbling on a bit of bread before starting to sketch. Soon, she had finished not only multiple sketches of Lucy, but of the other siblings as well, and when she was done with that, the scenery surrounding the huge mansion, the wardrobe, and even some bits of leftover food. She loved capturing the world around her on paper. She loved how different strokes and lines of a graphite stick could capture an object, a person, a moment...

A loud crash shook her out of her thoughts, followed by the sound of breaking glass. She checked all the windows in her room, and to her relief, none of them were broken. She figured it must have come from one of the other rooms. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw all the siblings running back inside the house. She shrugged it off as coincidence and continued drawing her glass of water.

A few minutes later, she heard thundering footsteps outside her door. She gasped. did the professor find out about her? She shoved her tray of food into the corner, her new notebook and pencil into her pocket and hid in the wardrobe, once more. Yet for some reason, she waited by the door of the wardrobe, instead of venturing further into the sea of coats.

Violet heard the door banging open, and several pairs of feet rushing into the room.

"Where's Violet?" she heard Lucy say.

Violet's eyes went wide. Were they looking for her to hand her over to the professor? She didn't want to get stuck in some World War II asylum!

"Who cares? Now come on!" Edmund said. Then the door of the wardrobe was wrenched open, revealing Violet. Edmund only glanced at her, then pushed her to the back of the wardrobe.

"GO! Move to the back!" he hissed. Violet didn't question him. The looks of desperation on their faces was enough to let them hide with her, just this once. Violet pressed herself against the coats, trying to give them as much space as possible to enter first. Suddenly, she felt a gust of cold air on her face, and she grinned to herself. Boy, were they going to get what was coming to them.

"You've _got _to be joking," she heard Susan say from outside.

"But your brother isn't," Violet snapped. "Now get in!"

They all rushed inside the wardrobe, Peter the last to enter, as he softly closed the wardrobe door behind him. He then turned around and found himself face to face with Violet, their faces inches apart. Violet couldn't help but gaze into the sky that she found in his clear blue eyes, and Peter did the same with hers. They were so peculiar, yet beautiful.

Suddenly, Violet realized what she was doing, and was horrified. She pushed him away and followed everyone deeper into the sea of coats. Peter then followed, still mesmerized by those beautiful hazel orbs, with flecks of green and gold to compliment them. But he was violently pulled out of his tirade of thoughts when he felt Susan treading on his toe.

"Get off my toe!" he hissed.

"I'm not on your toe!" she hissed back. They glared at each other, daggers in their eyes, before continuing to walk. Suddenly, they both tripped and landed in snow.

_Wait a minute,_ Peter thought. S_now?_

He and Susan got up, taking in their surroundings. Indeed, there was a wood, a magical land in the back of the upstairs wardrobe.

"Impossible!" Susan whispered to herself. This defied all rules of logic, of physics, of nature, of common sense, of everything! She rubbed her eyes to make sure this wasn't all just a bad dream. Then she looked at Lucy and Violet, and felt a pang of guilt. They had been telling the truth the whole time. She looked at Peter, who seemed to be feeling the same guilt.

"Don't worry," Lucy said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm sure it's just your imagination,"

Violet went to stand beside Lucy, a similar smirk on her face.

"I-I don't suppose saying we're sorry would quite cover it?" Peter stuttered, a smile creeping onto his face.

"No, it wouldn't," Lucy said with a frown, fiddling with something behind her back. She then threw whatever it was straight at Peter's face. "But that might!"

Peter grinned hugely, and quickly gathered up some snow, and threw it back at Lucy. Soon, Susan and Violet were enthusiastically participating in the snowball fight as well. Violet couldn't remember the last time she had had so much fun. She never felt so carefree in such a long time, her only care in the world being dodging snowballs and making sure she got the others back. She felt a laugh escape her lips, ringing in the air. Oh, how good it felt to laugh!

Peter turned his head as he heard Violet laugh, a huge smile on her face. She had a beautiful laugh, and in rang in his ears like bells chiming in the wind. She looked so pretty when she laughed. Her hair seemed to dance when she moved, her eyes lit up, her cheeks, a rosy red-

_SPLAT!_

A snowball had hit him in the face. Again. He looked at his attacked, surprised to find it was Violet.

"Oh, you're going to get it, alright!" he growled playfully. And he threw a snowball with all his might at her. She skillfully dodged it, quickly picked up another one and threw it at him. It missed, and hit Edmund's shoulder instead.

"Ow! Stop it!" he yelled, clearly annoyed. Everyone stopped throwing. Edmund had been staring out into the woods, lost in thought while everyone was having their fun.

"Why, you little liar!" Peter snarled, turning on his little brother.

"You didn't believe her either!" Edmund said in defense. Peter ignored this.

"Apologize to Lucy," he said stubbornly.

Silence.

"SAY YOU'RE SORRY!"

"Alright! I'm sorry," Edmund said, although everyone could tell he didn't really mean it.

"It's alright Edmund," Lucy said, looking very smug. "Some children just don't know when to stop pretending."

"Very funny," Edmund muttered sarcastically, making a face. He hated it when people used his words against him. It meant having to admit her was wrong. He hated his siblings, he hated the war, he hated the world and he hated his life. But he especially hated Violet. He hated it that she just decided to pop into his already ruined life, and ruin it some more. He hated that she couldn't just keep to herself, that she had to poke her nose into everything. Why couldn't she just leave his business with the Queen alone? But what hated most about her, was that he was drawn to her. He wanted to know more about her. It didn't help that she was remarkable pretty as well, but she was the devil in disguise. Pretty on the outside, dark and dangerous on the inside.

_Not too different from yourself, _a voice told him. He ignored it. _Maybe you're just curious, Ed. You just don't know who she is. Naturally you'd be drawn to her. Peter is as well._

Yeah, that was it. He was just curious. Nothing else. Just curious...

"Edmund?" Susan's voice cut into his thoughts. "Did you hear what I just said?"

Everyone's eyes were on him.

"Er, no?"

Susan glared at him.

"Susan said that we should all apologize to Violet as well. Susan and I have done our part, and now it's your turn." Peter said, repeating Susan's words. Violet glared at him expectantly.

"Sorry," he mumbled, barely audible.

"Did someone say something?" Violet said sarcastically.

"It's alright Violet," Lucy told her, snickering. "Just leave it. He'll regret not apologizing later,"

"But I did apologize!" Edmund exclaimed.

"Really, I think there might be a ghost around here," Peter teased, playing along. "Susan, can you confirm the presence of a ghost?"

"Well," Susan said, mock sighing. "My senses are telling me that there are four humans-"

"Hey! I'm here, you know!" Edmund whined.

"And," Susan said, ignoring Edmund. She suddenly gasped. "There's a strong electromagnetic field somewhere over... there,"

She pointed at Edmund. They all laughed, and Edmund only glared at the snow, turning red. But the other's weren't done.

Oh well," Lucy sighed. "I suppose Edmund wouldn't mind a few guests in his bed tonight," Then she turned and winked at Violet. Edmund's face paled, obviously getting something Violet didn't.

"Oh, no you wouldn't," Edmund hissed.

"Oh yes I would," Lucy said smugly. "Now apologize, or the bed bugs _will _bite tonight, Edmund."

Violet gasped and giggled when she realized the meaning behind Lucy's words.

"Where does Lucy get her ideas?" she asked Susan.

Oh, it was a long time ago," Susan said, giggling. "A few Christmases ago, Edmund decided it would be funny to give Lucy a box of dead maggots as her present. Lucy was obviously upset, so Peter and I suggested a way to get him back. So while Edmund was brushing his teeth, we hid the maggots under his covers, along with a couple live ones. You can imagine how he reacted,"

"Yeah, I could," Violet agreed.

"Alright, fine! I'm sorry!" Edmund said hastily, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Nah, we're cool," Violet said, waving it off. "But there's one more thing I want you to say,"

"And what would that be, _Violet?_" he sneered.

"I want you to repeat after me: Violet Christine Del Bario McMillan is not a homeless lunatic."

"Violet Christine Del Bario McMillan is not a homeless lunatic," he repeated through clenched teeth, spitting every syllable.

"And," Violet continued."I, Edmund Pevensie, am a stubborn, selfish, retarded freak with anger issues." The Violet stopped, looking back towards the others to see if she was going too far. They were all holding back laughter, and gave her the thumbs up to continue.

"What?" Edmund exclaimed, horrified. "I can't say that!"

"Say it, or you'll regret it,"

"I, Edmund Pevensie," he snarled through clenched teeth. "am a stubborn, selfish, retarded freak with anger issues. There. Happy?"

"Oh, yes," Violet replied, doubling over with laughter, joined in by the others. "_Very _happy!"

Edmund scowled, blushing furiously.

"Maybe we should go back now," Susan said, once they had all stopped laughing.

"Shouldn't we at least take a look around?" Edmund blurted, a little desperate. Violet narrowed her eyes at him. What was that boy up to now?

"I think Lucy should decide," Peter suggested. Violet and Lucy grinned at each other, coming to a silent agreement.

"We'd like you all to meet Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy said.

"Then Mr Tumnus it is!"

**Author's Note: Here you go guys! I shouldn't actually be posting this today, it's supposed to be Good Friday, but here I am, just for your entertainment. I would just like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who reviewed this story so far. Your support so far really motivates me to do thing like use the computer on Good Friday. Anyways, here's a list of all my reviewers, and a personal message to each:**

**RunningQueenx5: Thanks! I was actually worried when I first started writing this that I was lacking in description, but I guess I was wrong! And I'm glad you like the love at first sight thing. I thought it would be cliched at first, but what the heck. It's fanfiction, I can do whatever I want. Thanks again!**

**Kairo833: Yeah, I actually hoped I would get that feeling across to whoever would read it, and I'm glad you felt freaked out! (in a good sort of way...) Thanks! And don't worry, you'll get a lot of William Mosely in later chapters (wink)**

**IsobelFrances: I'm glad you want to see more of Violet! I was really worried that she was a Mary Sue, and I still think that she kinda is, but I'm glad you still appreciate her. Thanks!**

**Egyptiandude990: Thanks! I checked out your bio, and dude, your PJO stuff is AWESOME. I'm also a big fan and PJO.**

**Cerulean89: Thanks! I'm glad you like it!**

**princess emma of narnia: Thanks! Is it just me, or have i seen you review almost every single Narnia fic on this website? lol, keep on reviewing, you're helping motivate writers to write more! **

**snowcherry98: Thanks! I actually wanted to send her back to her time at first, then have her come back to Narnia from Hong Kong, but I thought I'd give it a little twist and have her stay in 1942 instead, stuck in an attic where no one knew she was there. I'm glad you like it!**

**MJfans: Yes, I know who you are, you know who I am, and thanks for the review! I read some of your fanfics, and they're pretty good. See ya in school!**

**.elysium: Thanks for the advice! It really helped me think about Violet's character, and I hope I can make her a better OC. Thanks again!**

**MollyJaney: Thanks! I know, it's sad, but it was necessary and crucial to Violet getting into Narnia. And besides, she's not going to die until WAY later anyway. Thanks for the review!**

**So that's about everyone who reviewed. Thanks again for all the support! I'm probably not going to be able to update until next week, when Holy Week is over, so until then... and one more little thing...**

**See that? No,just down there, under this author's note. (gasp) It's so pretty! Why don't you click it? Go on, you know you want to...**

**REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Then Mr. Tumnus it is!" Peter announced.

"But we can't go hiking in the snow, dressed like this!" Susan protested.

Peter emerged from behind them, having taken out a couple of coats from the wardrobe. He began handing them out to everyone.

"No, but I'm sure the professor wouldn't mind us using these. And if you think about it... _logically_," he said, handing Susan her coat. Susan glared at him, once again having her logic used against her. "We're not even taking them out of the wardrobe."

He handed Edmund a coat, but he backed away from it, looking slightly horrified. Violet wondered how stubborn Edmund could get, unaware of the fashion of the mid 20th century, and unable to distinguish the coats. It was just a coat!

"But that's a _girl's _coat!" he exclaimed.

"I know," Peter replied curtly. Edmund took the coat, holding it away from him like it was going to burst into flames any moment. Violet snickered.

"You look real nice in a girl's coat, Edmund," she said, smirking. "It really does suit you,"

Edmund had had enough. HE stormed over to her, bitter anger burning in his eyes. Violet's smug smile faltered slightly.

"You should know," he growled, towering over her. "That I don't like you very much. And what you're doing isn't going to make things any better."

Violet faced him defiantly, not put off by his height or menacing glare.

"And _you _should know," she snapped back. "that the feeling is mutual. And who said I was trying to make things better? However, if that was your intention, then I'm going to repeat what I said last night. You shouldn't have called me a homeless lunatic, and since you have just been proved wrong that I'm none of those things, you have absolutely _no _right to say anything, you jerk,"

Then she turned her around abruptly, so her long hair whipped his face, and he stalked off, fuming mad.

Yet, despite his anger, Edmund couldn't help but notice how nice her hair smelled as it whipped his face. He could sense the light scent of vanilla and something else... lilies... _stop it, Ed, _he scolded himself. _You hate her, remember? _Then he shuddered and put on the coat, following the rest of his siblings.

Violet was so lost in her anger, she didn't see Peter right in front of her. She knocked into him and they both tumbled down into the snow, Peter on top of her. She was frozen in terror. The last time she was lying under someone, it wasn't in a good situation. Peter realized how awkward their position was, and got up, brushing snow off his pants. Violet sat up, her eyes shut tightly, hugging her knees.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered, a terrified expression painted on her face.

"Why would I hurt you?" Peter asked, completely puzzled. She looked so fragile right now, and all Peter wanted to do was give her a big hug and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But something told him that it wasn't exactly the best idea.

"Peter! Violet!" Susan called. "Keep up, will you?"

"Coming!" he called back. He then gently took Violet's hand and helped her up. He put her coat around her shoulders, and began leading her forward towards the others, as she still refused to open her eyes.

Violet couldn't move. She couldn't think. When Peter had fallen on her, his blue eyes turned brown, his blond hair turned into chocolate curls, the snow became sand, and day turned into night. She was literally living her worst nightmare. Marc stood above her in her mind's eye, a huge smirk on his face.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered.

"Why would I hurt you?" he said. Violet frowned. Why did he have a British accent? Then Marc took her hand and pulled her up, and began leading her around the beach.

"Violet?"

Her eyes flew open. She was walking in the snow, a thick fur coat around her shoulders, her hand in Peter's, who was guiding her towards the others. She pulled her hand out of his gentle grasp, looking him straight in the eye. Peter couldn't see any fear or anger in her eyes, just helplessness.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then she started walking off on her own, following Lucy and the others. Peter was utterly confused. One moment, she's ready to collapse, the next, she's walking off as if nothing happened.

Who was this girl?

Violet caught up to the others. Edmund had his hands stuffed in his pockets, sulking behind Lucy and Susan, who were chatting animatedly about Narnia... well, at least Lucy was. Susan just had this glazed look on her face, nodding whenever Lucy asked her a question. Violet supposed that she was still dumbfounded by the mere possibility of a magical land all crammed into the back of a wardrobe, and the fact that it was all true must have been a bit of a shock

Suddenly, Lucy stopped talking abruptly. She gazed in horror at the sight in front of her. There, was Mr. Tumnus' home, the entrance battered, the door attached only by a single hinge, the rest broken off and ready to fall. Lucy gasped and ran towards the door.

"Lucy!" Peter yelled, running after her, the others following suit. When Violet entered the house, she found no resemblance at all to the warm, cozy room she had visited. All the furniture was smashed and lay in pieces, broken glass was strewn everywhere and the room felt unnaturally cold - if Mr. Tumnus had been forced to leave his home, he sure did know how to put up a good fight.

"Who would do something like this?" Lucy whispered, tears brimming.

The sound of shattering glass made them all jump. Violet was the first to find the source of the noise - Edmund had accidentally stepped on the photograph of the poor faun's father, breaking the glass. Violet glared at him, as she knew how important that photograph was to Mr. Tumnus.

Peter found a note pinned to the wall, and he ripped it off and began reading it aloud.

"The faun, Tumnus, is hereby charged with high treason against her imperial Majesty, Jadis, Queen of Narnia, for comforting her enemies, and fraternizing with humans. Signed, Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long Live the Queen."

He handed the note to Susan, who grabbed it impatiently, reading it for herself.

"Alright," she said in a finalized tone. "Now we _really_ should go back!"

"But what about Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy exclaimed.

"He was arrested just for being with a human!" Susan said, trying to make her sister see sense. "I don't think there's much we could do,"

"You don't understand, do you?" Lucy said quietly. Peter, Susan and Edmund's faces made it clear that they didn't.

"Lucy and I," Violet explained gravely. "We're the humans,"

"She must've found out he helped us!" Lucy cried in desperation.

"Maybe we can call the police," Peter suggested lamely.

"These are the police," Susan pointed out. Then they both started to assure Lucy that everything was going to be alright, that they were going to do whatever it took to help the faun. Violet couldn't help but notice Edmund, who had guilt written all over his face. What would he be feeling guilty for?

"Why?" Edmund said, not too kindly either. "I mean, he's a criminal!"

"Why?" Violet repeated incredulously. "_Why?_ Because criminal or not, he was our friend, that's why! And because thanks to my being a lunatic, yeah, even back home I'm a lunatic, I don't happen to have a lot of friends. So I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that I don't lose them!"

Everyone was silent. Violet suddenly realized how awkward it was for everyone else to have her telling off Edmund, and she began to turn red from embarrassment.

_Psst!_

Everyone turned towards the door to see a robin perched on a branch outside, tweeting and 'psst'ing them.

"Did that bird just 'psst' us?" Susan said disbelievingly.

"We're in a magical land in the back of a wardrobe," Violet shrugged. "Anything can happen. For all we know Chuck Norris could be waiting out there to beat the crap out of us,"

"Who's Chuck Norris?" Susan asked. "And please stop swearing!"

"Forget it," Violet said, waving it off.

They all went out the door, squinting into the bright sunlight. Thy followed the bird a couple of feet forward until they lost sight of it. All of a sudden,a snapping twig cut through the silence. They all stood there, very aware of their surroundings. Violet poised herself to throw a punch at anything that should come their way, while Susan and Lucy latched themselves onto Peter's arm. Edmund just stood at a distance, not really caring about anything. They could all hear something approaching from behind a snow covered rock. They held their breath, ready for whatever it was, not daring to make a sound.

It shuffled closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then the thing peeked its head out from behind the rock, and they all sighed in relief, seeing that it was nothing that could hurt them.

"It's a beaver," Lucy said, looking rather amused.

"Oh no, it's a fairy," Violet said sarcastically. Susan threw her a look that clearly said 'shut up'.

Peter slowly approached it, clicking his tongue and holding out his hand, as if there was a treat in it.

"Here boy," he said in a soothing manner. "Here boy,"

He came closer and closer until his hand was right next to the beaver's nose. It looked at the hand outstretched in front of him, then back at Peter.

Then it opened its mouth.

"Well I ain't gonna smell it if that's what you want," it said in a nasal tone.

Peter whipped his hand back, Susan and Edmund's eyes were wide with shock, and Susan began to hyperventilate.

"Holy shit, oh, holy mother-loving shit!" she muttered under her breath, frantically fanning herself. "There's a freaking talking beaver. Okay. I'm in a winter wonderland, run aground by goat men, talking animals and evil queens."

"You forgot, it's also all in the back of a wardrobe!" Edmund added gleefully.

"You're not helping, Ed," Peter snapped.

"Hello?" the beaver said. "Talking beaver here, don't mind me!"

"Sorry," Peter said bashfully. Suddenly, all humor was gone from the animal's face.

"Lucy Pevensie," he said, approaching a giggling Lucy. She stopped giggling.

"Y-yes?" Lucy stammered. She approached the beaver who was holding out a white hanky. The beaver handed it to her.

"Hey, that's the hanky I gave to Mr. Tumnus!" she said, recognizing her initials stitched onto the corner of the fabric.

"Tumnus," he said gravely. "He gave it to me just before they took 'im."

"Is he alright?" Lucy asked, concern carving lines onto her youthful features.

"Further in," the beaver whispered, after checking for eavesdroppers. He scurried off ahead of them, beckoning them to follow. Lucy Peter and Violet began to hurry after him, but not before Susan grabbed her elder brother's sleeve, pulling him back.

"What are you doing?" Susan hissed.

"She's right," Edmund piped up. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"I don't know, you tell me, _Edmund,_" Violet said, glaring at him.

Edmund was about to come back with a smart retort, but Susan shut him up by giving him a terrifying 'you're dead if you say anything' look.

"Well he says he knows the faun," Peter shrugged. Susan looked at him, not believing this boy was her brother. Hadn't logic already been defied enough? Thrown out the window? Trampled on mercilessly?

"He's a _beaver_," Susan said incredulously. "He shouldn't be saying anything!"

A crazed glint disturbed her usually calm grey eyes, scaring Peter a little bit. He wasn't used to seeing his sister in such a state. She usually knew everything, and if she didn't know something, she would easily be able to find the answer with logic at her fingertips. Not being able to prove so many things that clearly couldn't possibly be right or logical was beginning to take its toll on her.

"Look," Violet began. "This place freaks me out as much as it does to you, but I have no choice to accept it cause I know I'm not dreaming, so it has to be real. How do you think it was for me? I got wrenched out of my own world and time and got tossed back and forth between your world and this place. I'm just as confused as you are, but just ... chill, okay? Go with the flow."

Everyone stared at her, befuddled by her peculiar use of language.

"You talk weird," Susan said, eyes narrowed at her.

Violet shrugged. "It's the language of the 21st century,"

"Is everything alright?" a slightly annoyed beaver called to them.

"Yes," Peter said quickly. "We were just talking,"

The beaver then looked around, as if to check for eavesdroppers.

"That's better left for safer quarters," he whispered to them.

"He means the trees," Lucy explained quietly, looking around knowingly. Edmund and Susan exchanged looks, both sending each other a silent message: 'our sister has gone bonkers'. Then they both followed the beaver through the trees, along with everyone else.

"Come on!" Beaver called. "You don't wanna be caught here after nightfall!"

They had been trudging through the snow for quite some time now, and were beginning to feel extremely tired. They passed through a narrow trench, and Edmund couldn't help but admire the beauty of the winter around him, how the snow draped itself beautifully over the rocks and trees, sparkling in the sunlight, making a spectacular sight. He wondered why anyone would ever want to put an end to all of this. Winter wasn't all bad, and had its perks. He thought it was pretty stupid for the Narnians to fight against the Queen, and should have been thanking her for making it such a beautiful place.

_Oh well, _he sighed to himself. _I suppose it gets old after a hundred years. _But he would never tire of it. Ever.

"There is is!' Beaver announced. "Home sweet home!"

There, in the middle of frozen river was a huge dam built across it. It looked rather nice and homey, with warm light pouring out of the tiny windows and smoke rising out of the chimney.

"It's lovely!" Lucy said, sounding truly sincere.

"Ah, it's merely a trifle," Beaver said bashfully as he led them to the dam, obviously rather flattered by the compliment. "Still plenty to do, ain't quite finished yet,"

Suddenly, a high pitched female voice called from inside the dam, sounding a lot like a concerned, worried and angry parent.

"Beaver?"

"Oh no," Beaver muttered under his breath.

"Beaver? Is that you?" the voice said again, and another beaver waddled into view. "I've been worried sick! If I find out you've been with badger again - oh," the female beaver gasped. "those aren't badgers,"

Everyone was rather surprised. They had seen a talking and a 'psst'ing bird, and had heard of a faun and an evil queen. But to think that the talking beaver had a worrying wife who also talked was going beyond the limit.

"Oh, I _never _thought I'd live to see this day!" she said, looking rather flustered, then turning on Beaver angrily.

"Look at my fur," she hissed. "You couldn't have given me ten minutes warning!"

"I'd have given you a week if I thought it would help!" Beaver said exasperatedly, throwing his paws in the air, making everyone laugh.

Mrs. Beaver ignored the comment and smiled graciously at her guests.

"Oh come inside, and we'll see if we can't get you some food... and some _civilized _company," she said, glaring at Beaver with the last two words. Beaver chuckled nervously and beckoned for everyone to follow his wife inside.

Violet and Edmund were the last to enter the dam, before Edmund turned to look back.

"What now, Edmund?" Violet sighed.

"Mind your own business," he snapped at her. She rolled her eyes and entered the dam - she couldn't really care less about what he thought. Edmund kept staring at the two hills where he knew the Queen's home to be. His mouth began to water at the thought of having more Turkish Delight.

"Enjoying the scenery, are we?" Beaver said, his voice extremely serious and lacking the humor that his words were supposed to have.

Edmund glared at the beaver before entering the dam, beaver following behind him.

The others had already struck up a conversation when Edmund entered, and he listened to see if there was anything he could pick up for the Queen.

"Isn't there anything we can do to help Tumnus?" Peter asked.

"They'd have taken him to the Witch's house," Beaver explained. "There's few that go through those gates... that come out,"

Edmund snorted. _Rubbish, _he thought. _Let's see if they're right when I go through. Just you wait. _He also felt slightly annoyed that they kept referring to to her as the Witch, and not the Queen.

"Fish and chips!" Mrs. Beaver announced, laying a plate of what was supposed to be fish and chips, but had been burnt to such a point that they were unrecognizable. Lucy grudgingly looked at the food, then back at Mrs. Beaver. Thankfully, the beaver took her expression of hopelessness to be for the situation, not for her cooking skills.

"There is hope, dear," Mrs. Beaver said, putting a comforting paw on Lucy's shoulder. "Lots of hope. Right?"

She looked at her husband expectantly, who choked on his drink, spraying its contents on the table. His wife glared at him for his lack of table manners then shook her haed. Mr. Beaver ignored this and continued.

"Oh, yeah, there's a right bit more than 'ope! Aslan, he's on the move," he finished in a whisper.

For some reason,the name Aslan made Violet feel a sudden warmth in her heart, which flared with... hope, something she never thought she'd feel again.

Then Edmund just _had _ to go and ruin the moment.

"Who's Aslan?" he asked in an annoyed tone. Beaver burst out laughing, banging his fist on the table as in what Edmund had said was the funniest thing in the world.

"Who's Aslan! Beaver exclaimed, roaring with laughter. "You cheeky little blighter,"

Mrs. Beaver hit her husband's arm, alerting him to their serious faces. His smile faltered.

"You don't know, do ya?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Well, we haven't exactly been her very long," Peter said, in a 'don't blame me' tone.

"Yeah, how were we supposed to know?" Violet added.

"Aslan," Beaver exclaimed, "He's only the King of the whole wood, the top geezer, the real King of Narnia!"

"He's been away for a long while," Mrs. Beaver added.

"And he's just got back!" Beaver nearly yelled, waving his arms madly. "And waiting for ya, at the Stone Table!"

Violet saw some movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned in a flash, just in time to see Edmund leave the dam, along with his coat still hanging on a rack.

_What's that asshole up to now? _Violet wondered. Then against her better judgement, she left the dam quietly and followed him out.

**Author's Note: Ooh, what happens next? So I recently got this review saying Violet was a bitch. Believe me, I'm trying to make her seem like one. But it's crucial to how the story goes, and how she discovers herself. And if you have problems with Violet, if you find her too Mary Sue or too much like thi or too much like that, I intended it. So that's the most I can explain without spoiling anything. **

**Now I'm going to pretend that you're all cats. Now I'm going to shine this red laser light somewhere right below this note. Now you're all chasing it, and it gets closer to a pretty blue button. I'm aiming the light directly at the button and...**

**BAM!**

**You guys are reviewing my story!**

**REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Violet saw Edmund a couple of feet away, racing up the hill, through the snow, without a coat. She felt rather stupid that she had made the same mistake as he did, leaving their coats behind, but she had no time for that now. he followed him silently, until he stopped walking. She looked out to where he was staring and her jaw dropped.

There, in front of them, was a huge, magnificent, yet terrifying castle made of ice. It glowed slightly green, and seemed to scream at her 'the White Witch lives here!'

She followed Edmund all the way up to the huge doors, as he opened it slightly, just enough for him to slip through. The doors nearly fell shut, but Violet slipped her fingers in between the gap before it had the chance to close. She yelped in pain, as she felt the edge of the doors crush her fingers.

Edmund heard a shout coming from behind him. He whipped around to see Violet trying to pry the door open, but her fingers were stuck. He hesitated to help her. He was annoyed that she had followed him. Why couldn't she just mind her own business and leave him alone? Why was she so intent on catching him doing wrong? He sighed, then went over to help her, easily opening the doors. She squeezed through the gap he was able to make, and ignored him, dancing about and wringing the hand that had gotten caught in between the doors.

"OW!" she yelled. "Oh my God, my hand, it freaking hurts so freaking bad! Holy-"

"You have got to stop swearing, Violet," Edmund said firmly. "Now stop jumping about and let me take a look at your hand,"

Violet was reluctant to let him touch her. "Since when did you become my doctor?"

Edmund just rolled his eyes and held out his hand for hers. Violet eventually gave him her hand, but it was tensed and she was ready top pull it back at a moment's notice.

"Come on, relax," Edmund said. She obeyed.

"It's a little swollen," he said, after taking a thorough look. "But just put some ice on it, and it'll be fine,"

"And where am I going to get ice?" Violet challenged.

"How about all around you?" Edmund pointed out, waving a hand at the snow surrounding them.

"Oh," Violet muttered. Edmund smirked at the blush rising in her cheeks, as she picked up some snow and laid her hand on top of it.

"Here, let me," he offered, taking her hand and massaging the ice onto it. She was surprised to find that his hands were gentle against hers - she had expected him to break it off by now, as she thought he was much too angry with her. But instead, she enjoyed the feeling of his skin on hers. When they touched, a warm tingle ran through her, which made her shudder.

As Edmund massaged her hand, he found that her fingertips were rough and calloused. That was unusual for a girl.

"Why are your fingers calloused?" he asked her.

"Oh... um..." Violet said, her blush deepening. "I, uh, play guitar."

"That's interesting," he mused. "Most girls I know play piano. Guitar is considered a street instrument, where I come from."

""It still is for the people I know, but I guess I prefer guitars," she shrugged, still enjoying her hand is his. Then she stiffened. She was here to get mad at him and tell him off, not to have a leisurely conversation about their lives.

"Stop. Stop right there." she said firmly, wrenching her hand out of his grasp. "You should be with your family, helping them defeat the White Witch, not turning spy for her!"

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are!" Violet shouted. "Why else are you here? Why else are you still alive? It's because of her that she wants every human that passes into Narnia dead! You're the only person who's met her and is still alive! Don't deny it, you've got something planned with her!"

Edmund stood there in shock. How could she possibly know? Then pure rage replaced the shock. How _dare _she poke her nose into his business! Who was she to tell him what to do? Then slowly, that rage turned to guilt. She was right. He was betraying his family for material, superficial pleasures. He was being greedy and selfish. But the rage returned. Why should he care about his family? All they've every done all his life was ruin it, especially Peter, who's overshadowed him all his life - he had the brains, the looks, the charm. He was constantly being compared to Peter. _Why can't you be more like Peter? _ was all he had ever heard. No 'well done' or 'great job'. Peter was perfect.

"Fine. Maybe I'm betraying my family. But I don't care. And if I go to the White Witch, I can be king, I can have everything I've ever dreamed of. I don't need my family," then he paused. "And I can convince the Queen not to hurt you. You can be safe."

For some reason, he didn't want the Queen to kill Violet. She could be a valuable asset... if he could just convince the Queen of that.

"I'd rather eat shit than have the blood of _your _siblings on my hands!" Violet snarled. "And it's Witch, not Queen."

"Fine!"

"Fine! But I'm not letting you out of my sight. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you back to your family. They love you, and they shouldn't have to lose a brother."

"Good luck trying."

Then Edmund continued walking deeper into the palace, Violet hot on his heels. It was then that she noticed she was in a courtyard filled with statues. She couldn't help but admire the detail and intricacy on the statues - it was so terrifyingly real. Then she realized how terrifying the statues were. Almost all of them had either looks of pure horror planted on their faces with their arms raised feebly to protect themselves, or intense hatred, arms raised to strike and kill. There was one particularly scary one, a huge giant raising its club to attack. She was so absorbed in the detail of the statues that she realized that she had lost sight of Edmund. She turned around, frantically searching for him - she was serious when she said she would return him to his family.

She found him crouched in front of a statue of a lioness, using charcoal to draw speacles and a moustache on his face.

"Yeah, real mature Edmund," she called out to him sarcastically. He glared at her and dropped the charcoal, then continued walking forward. Violet rolled her eyes and followed him, up until they reached some steps, where a furry rock covered with snow lay in their path... Wait. Furry rock?

Suddenly, the furry rock jumped up, growling and pinning Edmund to the ground with one powerful paw. It was a huge, oversized wolf.

"Be still stranger," it growled. "or you may never move again. Who are you?"

"I'm Edmund, and that's Violet! I met the Queen in the woods, and she told me to come here!"

And when the wolf didn't think it was much of an excuse, Violet decided to intervene.

"He's a Son of Adam, and I'm a Daughter of Eve!" she blurted.

The wolf immediately ceased his growling, and removed his paw from Edmund's chest, allowing him to get up.

"My apologies, fortunate favorite of the Queen," he said with mock respect. "Or else... not so fortunate,"

The wolf began to turn around to lead Edmund inside, but then he stopped and looked at Violet, eyeing her with look that Violet didn't like at all.

"You can tag along... for now. Right this way," he said, then he led them into a huge entrance hall, and through a large set of ice doors. They entered an enormous room, with pillars of ice along the sides, and a towering set of stairs leading to something that was too high up for them to see. The wolf bounded up the stairs easily, but Edmund and Violet were slower, and by the time thy had reached the top of the stairs, the wolf was waiting impatiently.

"Wait here," the wolf ordered. Then he went off and left them rather clueless.

Violet was terrified. What was going to happen to her? Of course she wouldn't turn over to the Witch, but because of that, her life was now at risk. She looked over at Edmund, who didn't seem to be scared at all, but in wonder. Violet saw what he was looking at, and her jaw dropped. In front of them was a towering regime made of ice, with patterns carved into the headrest, and a fur coat draped over the armrests - no doubt to shield whoever sat in it from the cold. She saw Edmund approaching it in wonder, and he sat on it, admiring the feeling of power he felt, sitting on this throne.

"Edmund, what the heck are you doing?" Violet hissed at him. But he seemed to be in a trance, as he didn't respond to her. She saw greed glistening in his eyes, and Violet suddenly felt scared of him. Maybe he really was lost, no hope left for him.

"Like it?" a smooth voice said, chilling Violet down to the bones. Edmund jumped out of the throne upon seeing who it was that addressed him.

Violet was shocked. When she heard the word 'witch', she'd expected an old hag with green skin and black rags and a broomstick, your Wizard of Oz stereotype witch. But instead, the woman that faced Violet was drop-dead gorgeous, with skin as snow, white blond hair to match, dressed in a spectacular white dress that cascaded all the way down to the floor, and a silver staff tipped with ice, which Violet figured to be her wand. While the Witch was extremely beautiful, her eyes seemed to detract her from her beauty. Oh, her eyes - they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and this was true for the Witch. Her eyes were a pitch black, reflecting the bottomless void of evil that resided in her.

"Uh... yes, Your Majesty," Edmund stuttered.

Violet's blood began to boil. 'Your Majesty' now, was it?

The Witch nodded, her face remaining emotionless. Then she looked at Violet and gave a falsely sweet smile, that failed to reach her eyes.

"You must be Edmund's sister," she said.

"No, we're not related," Violet said quickly.

"Then who is this?" the Witch asked, turning to Edmund, her smile becoming increasingly forced.

"Oh... well, this is Violet." Edmund said. "She's a... friend,"

Friend my ass, Violet snarled in her mind, but she forced herself to maintain her cool composure.

Again, the Witch gave another forced smile.

"Tell me, Edmund," she said in an off-handed tone. "are you sisters... deaf?"

Uh... no," Edmund replied, confused at the Witch's weird question.

"And your brother," she continued. "Is he... unintelligent?"

"I don't think so," Edmund replied with a nervous laugh, ready to start a full blown rant on Peter. "But mum says-"

THEN HOW DARE YOU COME ALONE!" the Witch roared. Edmund jumped back, terrified. He had never seen the Witch's bad side, and was so used to the Witch's 'kindness'.

"I tried, but they just won't listen to me!" Edmund cried, backing away as the Witch advanced him, a murderous glint in her eyes.

"Couldn't even do that," she said, in the sort of tone a disappointed mother would use on her child.

"I did bring them halfway!" Edmund blurted, desperate for anything to save him from the Witch's wrath. "They're at the little house, the beavers' dam!"

Violet was furious. He had just given away his family's location, where the Witch could easily hunt them down.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Violet shouted at him. "What are you think-"

SMACK!

Violet rubbed the spot where she had been hit across the face. The force had knocked her to the floor. A ring on the Witch's finger had cut into the flesh of her cheek, and she could feel the warm liquid trickling down her face.

"You will learn to control your tongue in my presence," the Witch said emotionlessly.

Violet bit back a retort, not wanting to cause anymore she turned to walk away, before Edmund just had to open his mouth.

"Wait!" he cried. The Witch turned around.

"Could I maybe... have some some more Turkish Delight?" he asked tentatively. Violet wanted to scream in rage. He had sold them out for sweets. Not gold, not power, bur sweets.

"You son of a-"

The Witch raised her wand to plunge it into Violet's body.

"No!" Edmund cried. "Please, don't kill her, she was brainwashed by the faun, Tumnus. She can still be taught what's right!"

The Witch lowered her wand, digesting the situation.

"Interesting..." she mused. "I suppose she still has some use,"

Violet again had to bite her tongue from saying anything more, and she could taste the salty fluid in her mouth.

The Witch then called for Ginarbrik, a dwarf, to come and take Edmund away.

"This way, for your num nums!' the dwarf cackled, leading Edmund away with a dagger pressed to his back. And as Edmund left the room, he couldn't help but realize the damage he had done.

The Witch eyed Violet still on the floor, and began to circle her.

"Get up," she commanded. Violet did so, but not without maintaining eye contact with the Witch, and in this case, a glare. She tried not to show how scared she really felt, the Witch walking around her, and feeling her black eyes bore into her back. The Witch then faced Violet, a cruel smile turning up her lips.

"So, you're Edmund's friend, aren't you?" she said. "I'm sure you could be useful for... persuasive purposes."

"What do you mean?" Violet said, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I'm sure you know what I mean. Poor Edmund would do anything to keep you out of harm's way,"

Violet's eyes widened, and a blush rose in her cheeks as she realized what the Witch was getting at.

"We're not like that," she snapped. "I hate him, he hates me. Full stop."

The Witch only smiled some more, making Violet's blood boil. But no, she would not give the Witch satisfaction that she was getting to her.

"Believe me, I've seen the way he looks at you. He might not know it yet, but you'll see. You could be a valuable asset to us if he realizes it,"

Violet just imagined tearing the Witch to pieces in her mind, trying to distract herself from the red edges blocking her vision.

The Witch then called for a guard to take Violet away, which turned out to be some sort of oversized and odorous boar dressed in heavy armor. As Violet was roughly shoved out of the icy throne room, she couldn't hold the tears any longer - she had this thing where if she was extremely angry, but couldn't let it out, they escaped in the form of tears instead. Silent, but painful nonetheless.

As she was being led to the dungeons, walking through endless freezing corridors, she saw a young girl lurking behind a pillar. Violet craned her neck to get a good look at her, but the guard/over-sized boar roughly pushed her head back down. The young girl approached them, holding up a hand for the guard to stop pushing Violet. She peered at Violet curiously, and Violet only glared at her through her tears.

The girl looked to be about 13 years old, with straggly blonde hair that cascaded almost down to her waist. She wore a light blue dress with see through half sleeves and a skirt that floated down to the floor. But the most prominent feature was her eyes. She had white eyelashes that framed two purely silver pupils that seemed to glow.

_Okay, creepy girl with creepy sliver eyes that's pretty in a creepy way, _Violet thought.

The girl looked at the guard questioningly, and he bowed his head towards her as he answered.

"Another rebel against the Queen, Your Highness," he said gruffly. The girl's eyes then hardened and she waved them away. The guard then continued to push Violet ahead, as she mulled over this peculiar discovery. Your Highness? And what was with her eyes? Who was that girl?

**Author's Note: OMG I'm so sorry for not having updated in so long! Long story short, school is kicking my ass with a test and piles of homework everyday, and I've been losing too much sleep to wake up at 3 in the morning to type out stories. I'll make it up to you guys by posting another chapter right after this one, like right now. **

**Who is the mysterious looking creepy girl with silver eyes o.O though I probably don't deserve it, please review to find out! But if you don't that's cool... so I've got something else for you guys instead.**

**(steals a 100 dollar note from dad's pocket and sticks it on top of review button)**

**You guys want more of that green paper? (well it's red in Hong Kong, but I'll make it green for the sake of readers in other countries) Just lift the pretty 100 dollar bill and click that even prettier blue button. You know, the one with the pretty yellow speech bubble next to it. SO pretty right? All you have to do to get millions of those pieces of paper is to click that button...**

**REVIEW!**


	9. Chapter 9

Violet saw Edmund a couple of feet away, racing up the hill, through the snow, without a coat. She felt rather stupid that she had made the same mistake as he did, leaving their coats behind, but she had no time for that now. he followed him silently, until he stopped walking. She looked out to where he was staring and her jaw dropped.

There, in front of them, was a huge, magnificent, yet terrifying castle made of ice. It glowed slightly green, and seemed to scream at her 'the White Witch lives here!'

She followed Edmund all the way up to the huge doors, as he opened it slightly, just enough for him to slip through. The doors nearly fell shut, but Violet slipped her fingers in between the gap before it had the chance to close. She yelped in pain, as she felt the edge of the doors crush her fingers.

Edmund heard a shout coming from behind him. He whipped around to see Violet trying to pry the door open, but her fingers were stuck. He hesitated to help her. He was annoyed that she had followed him. Why couldn't she just mind her own business and leave him alone? Why was she so intent on catching him doing wrong? He sighed, then went over to help her, easily opening the doors. She squeezed through the gap he was able to make, and ignored him, dancing about and wringing the hand that had gotten caught in between the doors.

"OW!" she yelled. "Oh my God, my hand, it freaking hurts so freaking bad! Holy-"

"You have got to stop swearing, Violet," Edmund said firmly. "Now stop jumping about and let me take a look at your hand,"

Violet was reluctant to let him touch her. "Since when did you become my doctor?"

Edmund just rolled his eyes and held out his hand for hers. Violet eventually gave him her hand, but it was tensed and she was ready top pull it back at a moment's notice.

"Come on, relax," Edmund said. She obeyed.

"It's a little swollen," he said, after taking a thorough look. "But just put some ice on it, and it'll be fine,"

"And where am I going to get ice?" Violet challenged.

"How about all around you?" Edmund pointed out, waving a hand at the snow surrounding them.

"Oh," Violet muttered. Edmund smirked at the blush rising in her cheeks, as she picked up some snow and laid her hand on top of it.

"Here, let me," he offered, taking her hand and massaging the ice onto it. She was surprised to find that his hands were gentle against hers - she had expected him to break it off by now, as she thought he was much too angry with her. But instead, she enjoyed the feeling of his skin on hers. When they touched, a warm tingle ran through her, which made her shudder.

As Edmund massaged her hand, he found that her fingertips were rough and calloused. That was unusual for a girl.

"Why are your fingers calloused?" he asked her.

"Oh... um..." Violet said, her blush deepening. "I, uh, play guitar."

"That's interesting," he mused. "Most girls I know play piano. Guitar is considered a street instrument, where I come from."

""It still is for the people I know, but I guess I prefer guitars," she shrugged, still enjoying her hand is his. Then she stiffened. She was here to get mad at him and tell him off, not to have a leisurely conversation about their lives.

"Stop. Stop right there." she said firmly, wrenching her hand out of his grasp. "You should be with your family, helping them defeat the White Witch, not turning spy for her!"

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are!" Violet shouted. "Why else are you here? Why else are you still alive? It's because of her that she wants every human that passes into Narnia dead! You're the only person who's met her and is still alive! Don't deny it, you've got something planned with her!"

Edmund stood there in shock. How could she possibly know? Then pure rage replaced the shock. How _dare _she poke her nose into his business! Who was she to tell him what to do? Then slowly, that rage turned to guilt. She was right. He was betraying his family for material, superficial pleasures. He was being greedy and selfish. But the rage returned. Why should he care about his family? All they've every done all his life was ruin it, especially Peter, who's overshadowed him all his life - he had the brains, the looks, the charm. He was constantly being compared to Peter. _Why can't you be more like Peter? _ was all he had ever heard. No 'well done' or 'great job'. Peter was perfect.

"Fine. Maybe I'm betraying my family. But I don't care. And if I go to the White Witch, I can be king, I can have everything I've ever dreamed of. I don't need my family," then he paused. "And I can convince the Queen not to hurt you. You can be safe."

For some reason, he didn't want the Queen to kill Violet. She could be a valuable asset... if he could just convince the Queen of that.

"I'd rather eat shit than have the blood of _your _siblings on my hands!" Violet snarled. "And it's Witch, not Queen."

"Fine!"

"Fine! But I'm not letting you out of my sight. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you back to your family. They love you, and they shouldn't have to lose a brother."

"Good luck trying."

Then Edmund continued walking deeper into the palace, Violet hot on his heels. It was then that she noticed she was in a courtyard filled with statues. She couldn't help but admire the detail and intricacy on the statues - it was so terrifyingly real. Then she realized how terrifying the statues were. Almost all of them had either looks of pure horror planted on their faces with their arms raised feebly to protect themselves, or intense hatred, arms raised to strike and kill. There was one particularly scary one, a huge giant raising its club to attack. She was so absorbed in the detail of the statues that she realized that she had lost sight of Edmund. She turned around, frantically searching for him - she was serious when she said she would return him to his family.

She found him crouched in front of a statue of a lioness, using charcoal to draw speacles and a moustache on his face.

"Yeah, real mature Edmund," she called out to him sarcastically. He glared at her and dropped the charcoal, then continued walking forward. Violet rolled her eyes and followed him, up until they reached some steps, where a furry rock covered with snow lay in their path... Wait. Furry rock?

Suddenly, the furry rock jumped up, growling and pinning Edmund to the ground with one powerful paw. It was a huge, oversized wolf.

"Be still stranger," it growled. "or you may never move again. Who are you?"

"I'm Edmund, and that's Violet! I met the Queen in the woods, and she told me to come here!"

And when the wolf didn't think it was much of an excuse, Violet decided to intervene.

"He's a Son of Adam, and I'm a Daughter of Eve!" she blurted.

The wolf immediately ceased his growling, and removed his paw from Edmund's chest, allowing him to get up.

"My apologies, fortunate favorite of the Queen," he said with mock respect. "Or else... not so fortunate,"

The wolf began to turn around to lead Edmund inside, but then he stopped and looked at Violet, eyeing her with look that Violet didn't like at all.

"You can tag along... for now. Right this way," he said, then he led them into a huge entrance hall, and through a large set of ice doors. They entered an enormous room, with pillars of ice along the sides, and a towering set of stairs leading to something that was too high up for them to see. The wolf bounded up the stairs easily, but Edmund and Violet were slower, and by the time thy had reached the top of the stairs, the wolf was waiting impatiently.

"Wait here," the wolf ordered. Then he went off and left them rather clueless.

Violet was terrified. What was going to happen to her? Of course she wouldn't turn over to the Witch, but because of that, her life was now at risk. She looked over at Edmund, who didn't seem to be scared at all, but in wonder. Violet saw what he was looking at, and her jaw dropped. In front of them was a towering regime made of ice, with patterns carved into the headrest, and a fur coat draped over the armrests - no doubt to shield whoever sat in it from the cold. She saw Edmund approaching it in wonder, and he sat on it, admiring the feeling of power he felt, sitting on this throne.

"Edmund, what the heck are you doing?" Violet hissed at him. But he seemed to be in a trance, as he didn't respond to her. She saw greed glistening in his eyes, and Violet suddenly felt scared of him. Maybe he really was lost, no hope left for him.

"Like it?" a smooth voice said, chilling Violet down to the bones. Edmund jumped out of the throne upon seeing who it was that addressed him.

Violet was shocked. When she heard the word 'witch', she'd expected an old hag with green skin and black rags and a broomstick, your Wizard of Oz stereotype witch. But instead, the woman that faced Violet was drop-dead gorgeous, with skin as snow, white blond hair to match, dressed in a spectacular white dress that cascaded all the way down to the floor, and a silver staff tipped with ice, which Violet figured to be her wand. While the Witch was extremely beautiful, her eyes seemed to detract her from her beauty. Oh, her eyes - they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and this was true for the Witch. Her eyes were a pitch black, reflecting the bottomless void of evil that resided in her.

"Uh... yes, Your Majesty," Edmund stuttered.

Violet's blood began to boil. 'Your Majesty' now, was it?

The Witch nodded, her face remaining emotionless. Then she looked at Violet and gave a falsely sweet smile, that failed to reach her eyes.

"You must be Edmund's sister," she said.

"No, we're not related," Violet said quickly.

"Then who is this?" the Witch asked, turning to Edmund, her smile becoming increasingly forced.

"Oh... well, this is Violet." Edmund said. "She's a... friend,"

Friend my ass, Violet snarled in her mind, but she forced herself to maintain her cool composure.

Again, the Witch gave another forced smile.

"Tell me, Edmund," she said in an off-handed tone. "are you sisters... deaf?"

Uh... no," Edmund replied, confused at the Witch's weird question.

"And your brother," she continued. "Is he... unintelligent?"

"I don't think so," Edmund replied with a nervous laugh, ready to start a full blown rant on Peter. "But mum says-"

THEN HOW DARE YOU COME ALONE!" the Witch roared. Edmund jumped back, terrified. He had never seen the Witch's bad side, and was so used to the Witch's 'kindness'.

"I tried, but they just won't listen to me!" Edmund cried, backing away as the Witch advanced him, a murderous glint in her eyes.

"Couldn't even do that," she said, in the sort of tone a disappointed mother would use on her child.

"I did bring them halfway!" Edmund blurted, desperate for anything to save him from the Witch's wrath. "They're at the little house, the beavers' dam!"

Violet was furious. He had just given away his family's location, where the Witch could easily hunt them down.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Violet shouted at him. "What are you think-"

SMACK!

Violet rubbed the spot where she had been hit across the face. The force had knocked her to the floor. A ring on the Witch's finger had cut into the flesh of her cheek, and she could feel the warm liquid trickling down her face.

"You will learn to control your tongue in my presence," the Witch said emotionlessly.

Violet bit back a retort, not wanting to cause anymore she turned to walk away, before Edmund just had to open his mouth.

"Wait!" he cried. The Witch turned around.

"Could I maybe... have some some more Turkish Delight?" he asked tentatively. Violet wanted to scream in rage. He had sold them out for sweets. Not gold, not power, bur sweets.

"You son of a-"

The Witch raised her wand to plunge it into Violet's body.

"No!" Edmund cried. "Please, don't kill her, she was brainwashed by the faun, Tumnus. She can still be taught what's right!"

The Witch lowered her wand, digesting the situation.

"Interesting..." she mused. "I suppose she still has some use,"

Violet again had to bite her tongue from saying anything more, and she could taste the salty fluid in her mouth.

The Witch then called for Ginarbrik, a dwarf, to come and take Edmund away.

"This way, for your num nums!' the dwarf cackled, leading Edmund away with a dagger pressed to his back. And as Edmund left the room, he couldn't help but realize the damage he had done.

The Witch eyed Violet still on the floor, and began to circle her.

"Get up," she commanded. Violet did so, but not without maintaining eye contact with the Witch, and in this case, a glare. She tried not to show how scared she really felt, the Witch walking around her, and feeling her black eyes bore into her back. The Witch then faced Violet, a cruel smile turning up her lips.

"So, you're Edmund's friend, aren't you?" she said. "I'm sure you could be useful for... persuasive purposes."

"What do you mean?" Violet said, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I'm sure you know what I mean. Poor Edmund would do anything to keep you out of harm's way,"

Violet's eyes widened, and a blush rose in her cheeks as she realized what the Witch was getting at.

"We're not like that," she snapped. "I hate him, he hates me. Full stop."

The Witch only smiled some more, making Violet's blood boil. But no, she would not give the Witch satisfaction that she was getting to her.

"Believe me, I've seen the way he looks at you. He might not know it yet, but you'll see. You could be a valuable asset to us if he realizes it,"

Violet just imagined tearing the Witch to pieces in her mind, trying to distract herself from the red edges blocking her vision.

The Witch then called for a guard to take Violet away, which turned out to be some sort of oversized and odorous boar dressed in heavy armor. As Violet was roughly shoved out of the icy throne room, she couldn't hold the tears any longer - she had this thing where if she was extremely angry, but couldn't let it out, they escaped in the form of tears instead. Silent, but painful nonetheless.

As she was being led to the dungeons, walking through endless freezing corridors, she saw a young girl lurking behind a pillar. Violet craned her neck to get a good look at her, but the guard/over-sized boar roughly pushed her head back down. The young girl approached them, holding up a hand for the guard to stop pushing Violet. She peered at Violet curiously, and Violet only glared at her through her tears.

The girl looked to be about 13 years old, with straggly blonde hair that cascaded almost down to her waist. She wore a light blue dress with see through half sleeves and a skirt that floated down to the floor. But the most prominent feature was her eyes. She had white eyelashes that framed two purely silver pupils that seemed to glow.

_Okay, creepy girl with creepy sliver eyes that's pretty in a creepy way, _Violet thought.

The girl looked at the guard questioningly, and he bowed his head towards her as he answered.

"Another rebel against the Queen, Your Highness," he said gruffly. The girl's eyes then hardened and she waved them away. The guard then continued to push Violet ahead, as she mulled over this peculiar discovery. Your Highness? And what was with her eyes? Who was that girl?

**Author's Note: OMG I'm so sorry for not having updated in so long! Long story short, school is kicking my ass with a test and piles of homework everyday, and I've been losing too much sleep to wake up at 3 in the morning to type out stories. I'll make it up to you guys by posting another chapter right after this one, like right now. **

**Who is the mysterious looking creepy girl with silver eyes o.O though I probably don't deserve it, please review to find out! But if you don't that's cool... so I've got something else for you guys instead.**

**(steals a 100 dollar note from dad's pocket and sticks it on top of review button)**

**You guys want more of that green paper? (well it's red in Hong Kong, but I'll make it green for the sake of readers in other countries) Just lift the pretty 100 dollar bill and click that even prettier blue button. You know, the one with the pretty yellow speech bubble next to it. SO pretty right? All you have to do to get millions of those pieces of paper is to click that button...**

**REVIEW!**


	10. Author's Note

Hey, I would like to sincerely apologize for not updating in like what, two, three months? Let's just say that I had a bit of a personal problem, and I have my reasons for not updating, which I'd prefer not to share. I'm sorry this isn't an update, but I just finished my exams, so I can start updating again starting from Monday.

Once again I want to apologize for not updating, but the Dancing Spectrum is back, and no one's gonna knock her down!


	11. Chapter 10

The guard led Violet through a series of stairs going down, all the way to the dark depths of the castle, to the dungeons. She just hoped that she would be placed in a cell as far as possible from Edmund, but her luck was against her. When she saw the guard unlocking the gates of Edmund's cell, she began to squirm and struggle violently against the guard's grip, but the guard only tightened it. Violet kicked and screamed, but it was no use.

Soon, her wrists and ankles were chained the the ice walls, and the guard locked the gate behind him as he left Violet to struggle against the irons. She screamed to be released, then she started screaming at Edmund.

"IT'S ALL YOU FAULT!" she screamed. "YOU AND YOUR SELFISH ASS GOT US HERE! I HATE YOU!"

Suddenly, the sound of howling wolves pierced the air, silencing Violet. They both realized what this meant - Edmund's siblings were now being hunted down.

Violet stopped screaming, and she was instead reduced to a pile of heaving sobs and streaming tears. 

Edmund felt guilt racking his heart, as he watched Violet being reduced into a sobbing mess. Each tear, each sob, each raking gasp that she took clawed at his heart. This was all his fault. He couldn't believe that he had fallen for the Witch's cheap act. He had gotten them locked up here, and his family were now probably dead. All of this was his fault.

He reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder (a difficult task, what with the extra weight of the chains pulling him down) but Violet gave a small shriek and shuffled away as fast as she could, away from him. He looked into her eyes, and found none of the fierceness that had been there when he first met her. Instead, he saw vulnerability, and this made him feel even guiltier.

Violet was an absolute mess. She had never felt so bare, so vulnerable, so weak, not since her attack. She had sworn never to feel so helpless again, and had even taken karate classes, climbing to the top of her class, driven by her determination to never feel weak , all the walls she had worked so hard to build for the past few years had been destroyed by something she didn't even know she cared about, until now. A country she didn't even know existed. This fact angered Violet, which only increased her tears.

Violet's crying had by now ceased, tears dry, red rims around her now puffy eyes, and a bad case of the hiccups, not to mention sniffling. She watched him pick up a mug, only tossing it away in frustration to find that its contents were frozen. He didn't even touch the tough, moldy bread. The dwarf had indeed given Edmund something to eat, it just wasn't the Turkish Delight he was looking for. Serves him right, Violet thought.

Suddenly, a scraping sound on the ice from the cell next to them made them jump.

Apparently, they weren't alone in this accursed dungeon.

"If you're not going to eat that..." a voice said to their right. Violet ignored the voice, but to her surprise, Edmund picked up the uneaten bread, and shuffled over the the prisoner in the next cell, handing it to him through the bars. Violet was surprised at his display of kindness, and her heart melted slightly - at least he was beginning to pay back the Narnians for what he'd done, no matter how small it was, it was a start. It was then that she looked up at the prisoner next door, and saw a rather peculiar sight meet her eyes. The man had his hooves chained to the wall, as he didn't have any ankles to spare... Wait. Hooves?

Then she recognized that familiar red scarf around his neck.

"Mr. Tumnus!" Violet gasped.

"Violet?" he said disbelievingly.

She shuffled to him as fast as the weight of the shackles would allow, and the faun did the same. Tumnus looked extremely beat up, bruises blossoming all over his face, his hooves were twisted at an awkward angle, and his horns were chipped at some places. That, and he had nothing but his scarf on him to warm him up in his literal prison of ice.

"Oh God, what did they do to you?" Violet whispered, tears once again brimming when she thought that she had run dry.

"It's nothing I can't handle," the faun sniffled, giving Violet a sad smile. She couldn't help but return the smile. She watched as he began to nibble on the bread, then he noticed Edmund.

"You're Lucy Pevensie's brother," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I'm Edmund," he confirmed.

"You have the same nose," the faun said, a weak attempt at humour. Edmund rubbed his nose self-consciously, feeling another wave of guilt crash down on him. Any memory of his family caused a similar reaction.

All humor aside, the faun addressed Edmund once again.

"Is she alright?"

No reply.

"Is she safe?" he asked, a tone of desperation in his voice.

Still, no reply.

He turned to Violet for answers.

"Please tell me Lucy is alright," he begged.

"I hope so," she replied tearfully.

Suddenly, the clanging of gates could be heard, and they all frantically shuffled back to their original places, not wanting to be caught talking to each other. The Witch stormed in, throwing their gates open, her nostrils flaring in fury, a deadly calm yet terrifying expression on her face. She approached Edmund, towering over him as he cowered at her feet.

"My police," she began in a deadly calm voice that dripped with poison. " tore that dam apart. And your little family was nowhere to be found,"

Violet sighed in relief. They were safe.

But the Witch was waiting for Edmund to say something, and when she received no answer from Edmund, she grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, chains and all, so her black eyes bore directly into his.

"Where did they go?" she demanded.

"I don't know!" Edmund cried. He was dropped unceremoniously on the icy floor.

"Then you're of no further use to me," she said coldly, raising her wand to stab Edmund.

"Wait!" Edmund cried, raising his arms feebly in defense. The Witch lowered her wand, in hope to get more information.

"The beaver said something about Aslan!" he blurted. Violet saw her vision go red, but she bit back the urge to scream in rage. Her palm tingled, wanting to rip him to pieces, but she stopped herself. If she was going to stay alive, she was going to have to control her temper.

"Aslan?"'the Witch said hopefully. "Where?"

"Please, Your Majesty," Mr. Tumnus blurted. "he's new here you can't expect him to know anything-"

He cried out in pain, as Ginarrbrik had smashed the butt of his axe into the faun's face, adding to his collection of bruises.

"I said," the Witch continued as if nothing had happened. "Where ism Aslan?"

Mr. Tumnus was giving him a look of pure desperation, begging him not to say anything more, while Violet had an expression of pure rage, threatening to kill him if he said anything.

Edmund was stuck. Should he do the right thing and keep quiet, or tell the Witch and have the blood of his family and hundreds of innocent people on his hands? He was probably going to die either way, so he decided to not choose either, and do the thing he did best.

"I don't know," he lied. The Witch narrowed her eyes at him. Clearly, this was not the answer she wanted, but it was an answer nonetheless.

"I wanted to see you!" he added, praying that the Witch would believe him. The Witch pulled her wand back to her side - the lie was told. She had taken the bait.

"Guard!" she called. "Take him upstairs,"

Edmund braced himself for what was to come, whatever it was that would be upstairs. He heard and clang, and a cry of pain, but it did not come from his mouth. He surprisingly felt no pain, and dared to open his eyes to see what was happening. His chains were still intact - it was the faun who had been released. The ogre grabbed Tumnus by the neck and thew him at thr Witch's feet, as if he were nothing but a rag doll.

"Do you know why you're here, faun?" the Witch addressed him pitilessly, looking down on him.

"I am here," the faun replied pain filling his voice as he dared to look the Witch straight into her black eyes. "Because I believe in a free Narnia,"

The Witch gave him a pitiful smile that once again didn't reach her eyes.

"You are here," she announced "Because he," she pointed at Edmund. "Turned you in... for sweets."

The faun's face showed no anger or hatred, only disappointment and pity.

"Take care of him, Violet," the faun whispered as he was dragged past her. "Narnia depends on our Guardian,"|

The White Witch gasped, anger flaring on hr face.

"No, it isn't possible!" she hissed.

Violet became confused.

"What Guardian? And-"

She felt something smashing into her forehead. The next thing she knew, her face was pressed against the cold, ice floor, then her world faded into black nothingness.

"NO!" Edmund cried as Violet fell to the floor, blood trickling out of a large gash on her forehead. Th Witch had slammed the butt of her wand into Violet's forehead, effectively knocking her out.

"Ready my sleigh, and put the girl in too," the Witch said, smiling coldly. "_Edmund_ misses his family,"

Then all Edmund could do as another guard dragged her unconscious body away, was curl up and cry.

A couple of hours later, Edmund was being shaken awake by a hideous ogre.

"Her Majesty is ready, and she says you're to come with her," the ogre grunted. Then he violently pulled Edmund up, 'helping' him get to his feet, before he shook himself out of the creature's grasp.

"I can get up myself," he snapped. Then the ogre mumbled something unintelligibly, then bent down to unlock Edmund's chains. He was then grabbed and steered out of the cell. By the time they reached the courtyard of stone statues, Edmund noticed a new addition, right in front of him.

He gasped in horror, recognizing the statue to be Mr. Tumnus. His face was forever frozen in a twisted mask of pain, bent down to feebly protect his mid-section. Then something clicked. If this statue was Mr. Tumnus, then that meant... all these other statues... they must have been alive once.

How many innocent people had the Witch trapped in here?

The ogre then roughly pushed him towards the Witch's sleigh, where he saw a familiar pair of black shoes with white laces hanging limp out of it.

"Violet!" he gasped in horror.

"Come Edmund," the Witch commanded, seating herself in the sleigh. "Why don't you sit with your... friend?"

Edmund walked over to the sleigh and sat on the floor at the Witch's feet. As they took off, he saw flash of blond and sliver behind one of the towering ice pillars. He strained his neck to get a closer look, and met a pair of silver eyes. He gasped and blinked, then it was gone.

_What was that? _he thought. He shook it off and began to try to warm himself form the icy wind that whipped at his face. He looked at Violet lying next to him, the dried blood crusted on her forehead and in her beautiful brown hair. He repositioned himself so her head was resting on his lap. All hatred for her was gone - his heart went out to her for sticking with him through his multiple betrayals, and for shouting at him and trying to steer him away from temptation. Although she had failed, he admired her for the effort.

As he stroked her hair gently, he realized just how beautiful she was. Through all those baggy homeless clothes and attitude, she still had quite a pretty face. If she wasn't so hostile, he might have considered..._no, stop right there Ed. _He told himself. She'd never have him. He'd sold out his family for sweets. He'd betrayed a country, his family, his friend... and the way Peter looked at her, and the way she looked at him. Edmund could never have her. But did he want her?

As this inner battle raged, the frustration and anger he'd held back turned into a single tear, which trickled down his cheek and onto hers. Her eyelids flickered open, her clear hazel eyes looked round, as she tried to gather her surroundings. Edmund noticed something peculiar about her eyes. They had flecks of green and gold, scattered across those beautiful hazel orbs._Beautiful, _he thought.

Violet awoke, the sharp winter wind slapping her face, and a drop of hot liquid trickling down her face. It wasn't hers. She looked up to see chocolate brown eyes scanning her face. She saw his eyes filled with so many emotions; concern, guilt, fear, anger, confusion... every possible negative emotion.

"Sweet," the Witch said, smirking at them. It was then that Violet realized that her head was on Edmund's lap, and she sat up abruptly causing her head to spin.

"Woah, slowly now," he said, his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. For some reason, as she looked into his eyes, she didn't mind his hands there. She leaned into him, each tear slipping down her face quietly. She cried into his shoulders, letting her walls come down. He just held her, whispering words of comfort. Too bad he might not be able to do this again.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured.

"Don't apologize." he begged. "_I'm _the one who should be sorry. I got us and everyone else into this mess."

They stayed like that until the sleigh came to a stop. When Violet raised her head to look around, she saw that the entire place was no longer covered in snow, and there stood a churning waterfall before them. The ground was covered in lush green grass, the trees had shed all their icicles and the temperature was considerably warmer. They all got out of the sleigh, observing this new Witch glared at everything that had no traces of winter, as if it was their fault. Her magic was failing, and Violet and Edmund seemed to notice too.

Suddenly, they heard the whimpering sounds of n animal. All three of them turned around to see a pack of huge wolves, the leader gripping a wounder fox between his jaws. He threw it at the Witch's feet, the fox whimpering in pain. Violet watched as the fox bravely got to his feet.

"We found the traitor," the alpha wolf growled. "He was rounding up your enemies in the woods."

"Ah," the Witch said. "Nice of you to drop in. You were so helpful to my wolves last night. Perhaps you can help me now."

"Forgive me Your Majesty," the fox sighed.

"Oh, don't waste my time with flattery," the Witch snapped.

"Not to seem rude, but I wasn't actually talking to you." he said, then turned to Edmund and bowed. Edmund looked rather shocked, and kept glancing nervously towards the Witch who didn't look very happy at all.

"And of course," the fox chuckled. "I haven't forgotten you, milady." Then he bowed to Violet as well. Violet as well was in shock, and the Witch was fuming. She walked towards the fox, spinning her wand menacingly and pointing it at his throat.

"Where are the humans headed?" she demanded. The fox hung his head.

Silence.

The Witch plunged her wands downwards.

"Wait!" Edmund cried. "No, don't!"

"What are you doing?" Violet hissed.

"Silence!" the Witch demanded. "If he chooses to loosen his tongue, let him."

"The beaver said something about the Stone Table, that Aslan had an army there,"

This stopped the Witch.

"An army?" she said. She lowered her wand, and Violet glared at him disgustedly. The fox hung his head in despair. He was alive, but the Witch now had information on them. Death would've been a better option.

"Thank you Edmund," the Witch said cheerfully. "Well I'm glad this creature got to see some honesty. Before he died!"

The Witch plunged her wand into the small body of the fox, turning it to stone.

"NO!" Violet and Edmund cried in unison. The Witch faced Edmund, and backhanded him hard across the face.

"Think about who's side you're on Edmund," she hissed. "Mine, or theirs?" Then she walked back to the sleigh. Violet approached him, betrayal and anger in her eyes.

"Which side are you on, _Ed?_" she spat, glaring at him. Edmund hung his head in despair.

He was destroying his life.

He had to make a choice.

**Author's Note: Hey, sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! The usual, review, review, review.**

**And if you do review (omg that rhymes), you can click the link below for the best video ever. Just saying.**

watch?v=e1dvSlvZLG8


	12. Chapter 11

Since there was no more snow, they had set free the reindeer originally pulling the sleigh. Instead, Edmund and Violet had replaced them, who were suffering and being treated like animals.

"Hyah!" Ginarrbrik roared, cracking his whip across Violet's back. "Move faster girl! Keep up with the boy!"

Violet bit back a cry of pain, as she felt the whip cut through the clothes and skin on her back, feeling the sweater soak up the blood gushing from her wounds. It weighed her down, making her slow. But when Edmund tried to fall into the same pace as Violet, he received the same treatment as Violet did.

They went on like that for hours, Violet receiving the harshest beatings. She had fallen down many times from exhaustion, and each time she did she would be punished for it. Her back was now bare, covered in red gashes, her clothes hanging in dark red tatters which were now unable to stay on her back any longer. Each time the whip lashed across her back, each time she felt the thick leather cut into her skin, she would hold back a scream.

Finally, Violet collapsed, and this time she couldn't get up. Ginarrbrik cracked his whip repeatedly, but she just couldn't move any more. Edmund gasped in horror, as he saw the full extent of Violet's wounds on her back. He wanted to kill the dwarf, to tear apart the little man, limb by limb, with his bear hands. He would pay for what he'd done to Violet.

The whip cut down on Violet's back once more, and she just couldn't hold it in any longer.

She screamed. A terrible, bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream, that tore and clawed at Edmund's insides.

"STOP!" he cried. "STOP, YOU'RE HURTING HER!"

"Ginarrbirk, that's enough!" the Witch said sharply. "She's of no use to me in this condition. Leave her be."

"You can't just leave her here," Edmund exclaimed. "She'll die!"

"And?" the Witch said, raising an eyebrow. Edmund shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe that he had fallen for her cheap act, that she even had a heart.

"You're cruel and you're heartless," he snarled at her.

"Oh, I have a heart, my dear Edmund." She replied darkly. "but it, like my magic, has frozen."

"Come on boy, move!" Ginarrbrik yelled, cracking his whip on Edmund's back.

"I'm sorry," Edmund whispered, a single tear tracking down his cheek. Then he continued pulling the sleigh across the wide expanse of mud and trees.

Violet was face down in the mud. She couldn't move a muscle, she couldn't even twitch. She hadn't eaten or rested in over a day, and she had completely lost the will to survive. She could feel the mud seeping into the gash on her cheek, crusting up deep within her flesh. She was becoming one with the forest.

_I'm going to die here alone, _she thought miserably, _for a country I never knew existed until the day before yesterday. _She waited for the darkness to come a take her – and it did. But not the darkness she was looking for. No, this one was cruel, and it left her alive. The cold night air whipped against her bare back, stinging the wounds there. She waited and she waited, but Death would not come.

Suddenly, she heard a twig snap, dry leaves crunch, footsteps approaching. She heard them stop in front of her. Some water trickled into her mouth, and she drank feebly. Then she felt herself being wrapped in something soft and warm, and was picked up.

As she was carried away by this mysterious rescuer, she heard a low, soothing voice.

"Sleep now, my Guardian."

And she did.

Violet awoke to a beautiful, child-like soothing voice, gently calling her name. Was it an angel?

"Am I dead?" she whispered, trying to open her eyes. She couldn't. The light hurt her eyes.

"Susan! The lights!" the voice called. "Turn them off!"

Then the light went away, and her eyes fluttered open to see a dimly lit room, decorated lavishly in red and gold. She focused her vision on a person beside her.

"Lucy?" she muttered.

"Violet! You're awake!" she grinned.

"What just happened?" Violet groaned, trying to sit up, but Lucy firmly pushed her back down.

"Don't get up," she said flatly. "You need your rest. Anyway, one of our centaurs found you, almost dead in the middle of the woods. Susan wouldn't let me see you until you were almost healed."

"You can't blame me," Susan shrugged. "Your back was a nasty sight. Thanks to Lucy's

Cordial, you'll only have few permanent scars. Permanent, but light. We gave you a few drops of the cordial, more than we should have so you're running a slight fever. But you should be fine, it's nothing major."

Centaurs? Lucy's cordial? What the heck were they talking about?

"But-"

"No buts." Lucy said simply. "Now I think _someone _wants to see you."

Lucy suddenly burst into raucous fits of giggles.

"Is there something I'm missing here?" Violet asked, eyes narrowed.

"Lucy, stop giggling. It's inappropriate." Susan scolded.

"Why are you so boring?" Lucy whined.

"Come on," Susan sighed. "_Someone _wants to see Violet."

Violet let out a breath in frustration. It was then that she realized she was in a tent. A lavishly decorated tent.

Magical land in the back of a wardrobe, she reminded herself. Anything can happen. That had become her mantra ever since she'd arrived in Narnia. Anything can happen.

The tent flap was pushed open. Violet's heart started beating a little faster when she saw who it was.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked.

"I- I'm fine, actually." Violet stuttered.

"Good, because I need to talk to you." He said, pulling up a chair next to her cot and sitting down. Violet noticed he had two swords strapped to his belt. Her face paled.'

"Those aren't… swords, are they?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, they are," Peter said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Perhaps it was in Narnia. "And one of them is yours."

Then he removed the smaller sword from his belt, handing it to her. She unsheathed it and gasped in shock and admiration.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "I mean, for a weapon that's meant to rip out someone's guts, it's quite beautiful."

"It is," Peter said, smiling. "It even has a name, _Ignis. _Mine's Rhindon."

Her gaze lingered on the sword. _Ignis. _The blade was tinted a slight gold, almost feather light. The handle was wrapped in handsome brown leather, but the butt of the sword was a piece of gold welded into the shape of a lioness' head.

But when she saw her reflection, saw her hazel eyes reflected in the polished blade, a small tongue of fire danced across it. A sudden, hot wind gushed through the tent, and began to circle Violet in a mini tornado. Violet was glowing red; literally, as if she was a piece of metal about to melt and burst into flames. Suddenly, the wind rushed straight at Violet's heart, and it disappeared.

"What was that?" Peter gasped, after a few moments of silence.

"I have no idea, but I feel like I could kick ass!"

It was true. Violet felt energized, refreshed. All her sores and bruises seemed to have stopped throbbing.

"It's a bit strange though," Peter began. "But… hang on. Oh, now I get it… so _that's _what he meant… Witch's counterpart… wait, the necklace!"

"What necklace?"

"Do you feel alright? Good enough to get up?"

"Like I said, I could kick ass,"

"Please stop cursing, Violet,"

"Fine."

"Get dressed and bring your sword. You're going to need it."

Peter left the tent and waited outside so Violet could change into something a little more appropriate. Susan had put her in a dress, and a very pretty one at that. But Violet managed to find a pair of trousers and a plain white blouse that fit her just fine. She buckled Ignis onto her belt, just as Peter had told her. As soon as Violet exited the tent, Peter grabbed her by the hand and started marching her towards a expanse of grassy fields nearby.

"Where are we going?" Violet exclaimed.

"To the training fields."

In the short time Peter had been at Aslan's camp, he had watched soldiers spar and had picked up a lot from his fighting lessons with Oreius, the centaur. Peter was already an excellent swordsman in such a short amount of time.

But he, out of the three siblings at the camp, was the only one who had bothered to start training. Susan and Lucy just wanted to get Edmund and go home, and he was glad they were. He wouldn't have Lucy anywhere near a single weapon, except for the dagger that had been given to her by Father Christmas. Peter's master plan was to get Edmund and the girls home, while he and Violet stayed to defend Narnia, and frankly he thought it would be a good plan. No one but himself was at risk, and Violet didn't count because he knew she would never let him force her home.

And she had no choice either.

When Father Christmas had given him Violet's gifts to take care of until they could be given to her, he had told Peter that they'd be "essential to the defeat of the White Witch", and that she would "hold power that would counter that of the Witch's", and that the power in the gifts could only be used by "one claimed by the Great Lion himself". But now he knew that Father Christmas has been referring to a literal power, a super power. And he was going to find out what exactly they could do.

When they reached the training fields, , Peter pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Violet.

"Put it on," he said.

"Wha-"

"Just put it on!"

Violet rolled her eyes and hooked the thin golden chain around her neck. She held the little pendant in the palm of her hand, admiring its beauty in simplicity. The pendant was a deep, blood red, entwined in golden vines, holding it in place.

But Violet felt nothing special. No enthralling winds, no glowing skin, no change. Nothing.

"Now, grab you sword and attack me."

"What?!" Violet exclaimed. "But I don't even know how to fight! At least not this kind of fighting."

"I know," Peter grinned. "I want to see what you can do, so we know how much we need to build on."

But he really just wanted to see the extent of her powers, what they had to offer to the Guardian of Narnia.

"Now," he said, getting into position. "Attack me. Before I attack you."

"But-"

"Now!"

Violet thrust forward, but Peter blocked her easily.

"Keep your sword up. It is an extension of your arm, let it move as a part of your body, but don't grip it too tight. Now, try again."

She followed his advice and sliced the air with her blade, coming within an inch of Peter's neck. But he leaned backwards almost lazily, and their blades clashed once more.

"Now, I'm going to attack you." Peter grinned evilly. He thrust his sword towards her. And this time, Violet blocked him, driving her blade upwards so their hilts met. Violet then pushed with all her might, causing the sword to go flying out of Peter's hand, disarming him.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked, dumbfounded. Just mere seconds after picking up a sword for the first time, she already had tricks like that up her sleeve. Or had she learnt to fight like this before?

"I have no idea, I told you I don't know how to use a sword!" Violet insisted. She was in shock. How the heck did she do that? One moment she felt stupid, holding onto her sword awkwardly. The next, she suddenly knew what to do. It was if a switch had flipped on in her brain, and gave her the right instructions on how to defeat Peter.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Peter growled, determined to fully bring out whatever it was that made Violet suddenly an expert. Then without warning, he launched himself at her. Violet felt it again, that feeling. Only this time, she felt something else with it, like power, energy, coursing through her veins. Her arms moved upwards a quick as lightning, blocking Peter's attack.

Suddenly, her mind turned into a machine, telling her what to do.

Strike.

Dodge.

Parry.

Attack.

Swipe.

Stab.

Deflect.

Jump.

Strike.

They sparred for another hour, before Violet managed to disarm Peter once more, the sword flying out of his hands. But Peter wasn't finished yet. He kicked the sword out of Violet's hand, then tripping her with the same move. But as she fell, she grabbed his arms, pulling him down with her. Her mind suddenly shifted mode, from sword fighting to her karate classes back home. Peter's fist instinctively came flying at her face, but Violet, being experienced in this field of fighting, caught his fist, holding it merely inched away from her face.

"You don't wanna do that." Violet grinned wickedly.

"I'm willing to try," he replied. Big mistake.

She pushed his fist back, twisting it around and making him flip over, or risk dislocating his shoulder. Once he was lying face down in the grass, his arms pinned behind him and Violet sitting in the middle of his back, holding him down, she began to grin madly at Peter's shocked face.

"Problem?" she said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Peter was dumbfounded. He had been beaten by a girl. A _girl. _Even worse, a girl who, just mere hours ago didn't have a clue how to hold a sword. And her strength! It was unbelievable for a girl. And where had she learned to fist fight? A _girl…_

"How did you do that?" he croaked, still pinned to the ground. Violet giggled and let him up, holding out a hand to pull him up.

"Let's just say I make the boys in my taekwondo class squeal for mommy." She replied, laughing.

"But that was with your powers. But what can you do without them?"

"When I'm ready, I'll learn to fight properly."

"No." he said firmly. "What if you lose the necklace? There goes your powers. You need to be able to defend yourself under all circumstances, with or without your powers."

"Fine," she agreed. "But not today. I'm way too tired for that!"

Then they both collapsed on the spot, lying down in the lush, dewy grass which cooled down their backs. Both were drenched in sweat, making Violet's thin shirt cling to her thin figure. Peter couldn't help but stare a little. He knew Violet had a beautiful face, but she always hid the rest of herself under baggy clothes. His eyes travelled down her body, the slight curve of her hips and waist, the soft swell of her breasts, her long slender legs, stretched out, the small bulge of firm muscles on her biceps and abdomen. She was one of a kind. She wasn't a damsel in distress, she could fend for herself, could protect herself. But he was scared that it would only get her hurt at some point.

"You're staring at me again," Violet muttered uncomfortably. Peter looked away quickly, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Then they sat there in silence, both trying to avoid looking at each other, and failing miserably.

Then they both looked out at the view of the camp instead. Violet noticed on a far shore, a white building of some sorts.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"That, is Cair Paravel." a deep voice behind them said. Violet turned and did a double take when she saw a huge lion approaching them. She was terrified at first, but then she realized that this lion could only be Aslan. She looked into his cat eyes, a wonderful molten gold, and immediately felt as if she was staring into the face of God.

"Aslan," Peter greeted, bowing down on one knee. Violet followed his lead.

"Rise, both of you." The Great Lion said. They both got up.

"What's Cair Paravel?" Violet asked.

"It is the castle with the four thrones," Aslan replied. "On one of which you will sit Peter, as High King."

Peter and Violet remained silent, keeping their eyes locked on the distant castle. Violet felt that it was best to keep herself out of this one, while Peter wanted nothing but for her to speak up. But Aslan sensed their discomfort.

"You doubt the prophecy," Aslan said. It wasn't a question.

"No, that's just it," Peter replied, his voice filled with confusion. "Aslan, I'm not who you think I am!"

Violet could only imagine the pressure being tossed onto Peter's shoulders. He gets thrown into a magical world, and after a few days is expected to fight a war to liberate a country he didn't even know existed, then sit as Hing King and rule it – it was a rather big responsibility for a seventeen year old boy.

"Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley," Aslan mused. "Beaver also mentioned that you planned on turning him into a hat."

Violet looked quizzically at Peter, who chuckled and shook his head, giving her a look that clearly said it was a long story.

"Peter," the Lion continued. "There is a deep magic, more powerful than any of us that rules over Narnia. It defiens right from wrong, and governs all our destinies. Yours, and mine."

"But I couldn't even protect my own family!" Peter protested.

"You've brought them safely this far." Aslan pointed out.

Peter sighed. "Not all of them."

"Peter," the Lion said firmly. "I will do what I can to help your brother. But I need you to consider what I ask of you. I too, want my family safe."

The Lion gave him a sad smile.

"As for you, Violet. You are the Guardian of Narnia. Surely you have heard people call you that already."

"I don't deserve that title," Violet muttered miserably. "I can't even protect myself, or Edmund when I was with him… let alone a whole country! If only I was stronger, I could've been able to prevent the Witch from taking Edmund. I could've protected him. I'm weak, and I hate it. I…I…"

"Violet," Peter said fiercely. "you are _not _weak. You're the strongest person I know, maybe not physically, but you can push yourself to do anything, your will to do what you want is amazing. Don't you ever call yourself weak, Violet."

"Peter is right," Aslan said. "When you were born, I marked you as a Narnian… as my own. By doing that, a part of my soul was torn out and became a part of you. From birth, you were destined to be Guardian of Narnia. I knew you were worth of the role and the title, otherwise I would've never marked you. It is why you feel so loyal to Narnia, why you are willing to do what you have done, go through unspeakable torture and still remain strong. In spirit, you are my daughter."

Violet was frozen in shock. Her? The daughter of Aslan?

"But… I have parents…"

"Yes, they are you biological parents. But in spirit, I am your father. It is difficult to accept, I understand that. But if you didn't have a part of me residing in you, you would've never survived putting on that necklace. It contains great power, and may turn anyone who isn't its rightful owner to ashes. As for your sword, it burst into flame only for you, not for Peter, or for anyone else. You are a born warrior, Violet. My spirit gave you that. There is a lioness inside you. You are strong."

"So… do I have to call you 'dad'?"

Aslan chuckled. "Only if you wish."

Suddenly, the sound of a horn pierced the air. Peter's eyes widened.

"Susan!" he gasped, then took off.

Violet looked back at Aslan, confusion clouding her face. Aslan only looked at her gravely, before speaking to her once more.

"All will be revealed in time. Now climb on my back. Peter will need help… and bring your weapons. We rescue Edmund tonight."

Then Violet climbed onto the back of the Great Lion, and they took off, the setting sun shining gloriously behind them both.

They arrived by the stream, where Susan and Lucy were up in tree, clinging on for dear life. Below them, two wolves were circling Peter who had his sword drawn, pointing it at the wolves. But no one had noticed Aslan arrive, followed by the rescue party for Edmund. Violet slid off his back, her sword drawn and at the ready. Aslan stood by her side, ready to pounce – and pounce he did. He roared as he leapt on one of the wolves, pinning it down with a single, powerful paw. Violet ran at the other wolf, ready to strike when Aslan held her back.

"No, stay your weapon," he commanded. "This Peter's battle."

Violet reluctantly stepped back, but kept her sword at the ready just in case things should go wrong.

"You may think you're a king," the wolf taunted, drawing nearer and nearer to the tip of Peter's blade. "But you're going to die… like a dog!"

Then the wolf snarled as he leapt on Peter, who disappeared under a body of fur.

"PETER!" the three girls screamed in unison. Lucy and Susan jumped from the tree, while Violet ran towards them, all of them running towards a common goal – Peter.

They all knelt next to the two bodies, neither of which were moving. Susan pushed the wolf off Peter, who sat up, shocked at what he had just done. In his hand was Rhindon, coated in blood and fur. He had killed the wolf.

Aslan released the wolf beneath his paw, who whimpered as he bounded towards to woods, desperate to escape.

"After him!" Aslan commanded, then looked at Violet, nodding. "It'll lead you to Edmund."

Violet nodded and got up, watching the three siblings hug. She truly was happy to see them like that, no fighting, bickering or squabbling. A family.

Oreius offered her a hand, indicating that she would be riding on his back. Violet smiled as she took it, climbing onto the centaurs back. Then, they took off after the wolf, towards the woods, towards Edmund.

**Author's note: Hey, long time no update, so here's another chapter! I can make no promises as to when I can update next, because I have limited access to both computers at home, as my mother is pushing me to study all summer. Honestly, I can't blame her; my end of term grades weren't at all satisfactory, even though I passed everything except Chinese. So yeah, review, favourite, as usual. I wish I could promise you guys Tom Daley to every review I get, but unfortunately, I can't. So... yeah...**

**REVIEW!**


	13. Chapter 12

Since there was no more snow, they had set free the reindeer originally pulling the sleigh. Instead, Edmund and Violet had replaced them, who were suffering and being treated like animals.

"Hyah!" Ginarrbrik roared, cracking his whip across Violet's back. "Move faster girl! Keep up with the boy!"

Violet bit back a cry of pain, as she felt the whip cut through the clothes and skin on her back, feeling the sweater soak up the blood gushing from her wounds. It weighed her down, making her slow. But when Edmund tried to fall into the same pace as Violet, he received the same treatment as Violet did.

They went on like that for hours, Violet receiving the harshest beatings. She had fallen down many times from exhaustion, and each time she did she would be punished for it. Her back was now bare, covered in red gashes, her clothes hanging in dark red tatters which were now unable to stay on her back any longer. Each time the whip lashed across her back, each time she felt the thick leather cut into her skin, she would hold back a scream.

Finally, Violet collapsed, and this time she couldn't get up. Ginarrbrik cracked his whip repeatedly, but she just couldn't move any more. Edmund gasped in horror, as he saw the full extent of Violet's wounds on her back. He wanted to kill the dwarf, to tear apart the little man, limb by limb, with his bear hands. He would pay for what he'd done to Violet.

The whip cut down on Violet's back once more, and she just couldn't hold it in any longer.

She screamed. A terrible, bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream, that tore and clawed at Edmund's insides.

"STOP!" he cried. "STOP, YOU'RE HURTING HER!"

"Ginarrbirk, that's enough!" the Witch said sharply. "She's of no use to me in this condition. Leave her be."

"You can't just leave her here," Edmund exclaimed. "She'll die!"

"And?" the Witch said, raising an eyebrow. Edmund shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe that he had fallen for her cheap act, that she even had a heart.

"You're cruel and you're heartless," he snarled at her.

"Oh, I have a heart, my dear Edmund." She replied darkly. "but it, like my magic, has frozen."

"Come on boy, move!" Ginarrbrik yelled, cracking his whip on Edmund's back.

"I'm sorry," Edmund whispered, a single tear tracking down his cheek. Then he continued pulling the sleigh across the wide expanse of mud and trees.

Violet was face down in the mud. She couldn't move a muscle, she couldn't even twitch. She hadn't eaten or rested in over a day, and she had completely lost the will to survive. She could feel the mud seeping into the gash on her cheek, crusting up deep within her flesh. She was becoming one with the forest.

_I'm going to die here alone, _she thought miserably, _for a country I never knew existed until the day before yesterday. _She waited for the darkness to come a take her – and it did. But not the darkness she was looking for. No, this one was cruel, and it left her alive. The cold night air whipped against her bare back, stinging the wounds there. She waited and she waited, but Death would not come.

Suddenly, she heard a twig snap, dry leaves crunch, footsteps approaching. She heard them stop in front of her. Some water trickled into her mouth, and she drank feebly. Then she felt herself being wrapped in something soft and warm, and was picked up.

As she was carried away by this mysterious rescuer, she heard a low, soothing voice.

"Sleep now, my Guardian."

And she did.

Violet awoke to a beautiful, child-like soothing voice, gently calling her name. Was it an angel?

"Am I dead?" she whispered, trying to open her eyes. She couldn't. The light hurt her eyes.

"Susan! The lights!" the voice called. "Turn them off!"

Then the light went away, and her eyes fluttered open to see a dimly lit room, decorated lavishly in red and gold. She focused her vision on a person beside her.

"Lucy?" she muttered.

"Violet! You're awake!" she grinned.

"What just happened?" Violet groaned, trying to sit up, but Lucy firmly pushed her back down.

"Don't get up," she said flatly. "You need your rest. Anyway, one of our centaurs found you, almost dead in the middle of the woods. Susan wouldn't let me see you until you were almost healed."

"You can't blame me," Susan shrugged. "Your back was a nasty sight. Thanks to Lucy's

Cordial, you'll only have few permanent scars. Permanent, but light. We gave you a few drops of the cordial, more than we should have so you're running a slight fever. But you should be fine, it's nothing major."

Centaurs? Lucy's cordial? What the heck were they talking about?

"But-"

"No buts." Lucy said simply. "Now I think _someone _wants to see you."

Lucy suddenly burst into raucous fits of giggles.

"Is there something I'm missing here?" Violet asked, eyes narrowed.

"Lucy, stop giggling. It's inappropriate." Susan scolded.

"Why are you so boring?" Lucy whined.

"Come on," Susan sighed. "_Someone _wants to see Violet."

Violet let out a breath in frustration. It was then that she realized she was in a tent. A lavishly decorated tent.

Magical land in the back of a wardrobe, she reminded herself. Anything can happen. That had become her mantra ever since she'd arrived in Narnia. Anything can happen.

The tent flap was pushed open. Violet's heart started beating a little faster when she saw who it was.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked.

"I- I'm fine, actually." Violet stuttered.

"Good, because I need to talk to you." He said, pulling up a chair next to her cot and sitting down. Violet noticed he had two swords strapped to his belt. Her face paled.'

"Those aren't… swords, are they?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, they are," Peter said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Perhaps it was in Narnia. "And one of them is yours."

Then he removed the smaller sword from his belt, handing it to her. She unsheathed it and gasped in shock and admiration.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "I mean, for a weapon that's meant to rip out someone's guts, it's quite beautiful."

"It is," Peter said, smiling. "It even has a name, _Ignis. _Mine's Rhindon."

Her gaze lingered on the sword. _Ignis. _The blade was tinted a slight gold, almost feather light. The handle was wrapped in handsome brown leather, but the butt of the sword was a piece of gold welded into the shape of a lioness' head.

But when she saw her reflection, saw her hazel eyes reflected in the polished blade, a small tongue of fire danced across it. A sudden, hot wind gushed through the tent, and began to circle Violet in a mini tornado. Violet was glowing red; literally, as if she was a piece of metal about to melt and burst into flames. Suddenly, the wind rushed straight at Violet's heart, and it disappeared.

"What was that?" Peter gasped, after a few moments of silence.

"I have no idea, but I feel like I could kick ass!"

It was true. Violet felt energized, refreshed. All her sores and bruises seemed to have stopped throbbing.

"It's a bit strange though," Peter began. "But… hang on. Oh, now I get it… so _that's _what he meant… Witch's counterpart… wait, the necklace!"

"What necklace?"

"Do you feel alright? Good enough to get up?"

"Like I said, I could kick ass,"

"Please stop cursing, Violet,"

"Fine."

"Get dressed and bring your sword. You're going to need it."

Peter left the tent and waited outside so Violet could change into something a little more appropriate. Susan had put her in a dress, and a very pretty one at that. But Violet managed to find a pair of trousers and a plain white blouse that fit her just fine. She buckled Ignis onto her belt, just as Peter had told her. As soon as Violet exited the tent, Peter grabbed her by the hand and started marching her towards a expanse of grassy fields nearby.

"Where are we going?" Violet exclaimed.

"To the training fields."

In the short time Peter had been at Aslan's camp, he had watched soldiers spar and had picked up a lot from his fighting lessons with Oreius, the centaur. Peter was already an excellent swordsman in such a short amount of time.

But he, out of the three siblings at the camp, was the only one who had bothered to start training. Susan and Lucy just wanted to get Edmund and go home, and he was glad they were. He wouldn't have Lucy anywhere near a single weapon, except for the dagger that had been given to her by Father Christmas. Peter's master plan was to get Edmund and the girls home, while he and Violet stayed to defend Narnia, and frankly he thought it would be a good plan. No one but himself was at risk, and Violet didn't count because he knew she would never let him force her home.

And she had no choice either.

When Father Christmas had given him Violet's gifts to take care of until they could be given to her, he had told Peter that they'd be "essential to the defeat of the White Witch", and that she would "hold power that would counter that of the Witch's", and that the power in the gifts could only be used by "one claimed by the Great Lion himself". But now he knew that Father Christmas has been referring to a literal power, a super power. And he was going to find out what exactly they could do.

When they reached the training fields, , Peter pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Violet.

"Put it on," he said.

"Wha-"

"Just put it on!"

Violet rolled her eyes and hooked the thin golden chain around her neck. She held the little pendant in the palm of her hand, admiring its beauty in simplicity. The pendant was a deep, blood red, entwined in golden vines, holding it in place.

But Violet felt nothing special. No enthralling winds, no glowing skin, no change. Nothing.

"Now, grab you sword and attack me."

"What?!" Violet exclaimed. "But I don't even know how to fight! At least not this kind of fighting."

"I know," Peter grinned. "I want to see what you can do, so we know how much we need to build on."

But he really just wanted to see the extent of her powers, what they had to offer to the Guardian of Narnia.

"Now," he said, getting into position. "Attack me. Before I attack you."

"But-"

"Now!"

Violet thrust forward, but Peter blocked her easily.

"Keep your sword up. It is an extension of your arm, let it move as a part of your body, but don't grip it too tight. Now, try again."

She followed his advice and sliced the air with her blade, coming within an inch of Peter's neck. But he leaned backwards almost lazily, and their blades clashed once more.

"Now, I'm going to attack you." Peter grinned evilly. He thrust his sword towards her. And this time, Violet blocked him, driving her blade upwards so their hilts met. Violet then pushed with all her might, causing the sword to go flying out of Peter's hand, disarming him.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked, dumbfounded. Just mere seconds after picking up a sword for the first time, she already had tricks like that up her sleeve. Or had she learnt to fight like this before?

"I have no idea, I told you I don't know how to use a sword!" Violet insisted. She was in shock. How the heck did she do that? One moment she felt stupid, holding onto her sword awkwardly. The next, she suddenly knew what to do. It was if a switch had flipped on in her brain, and gave her the right instructions on how to defeat Peter.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Peter growled, determined to fully bring out whatever it was that made Violet suddenly an expert. Then without warning, he launched himself at her. Violet felt it again, that feeling. Only this time, she felt something else with it, like power, energy, coursing through her veins. Her arms moved upwards a quick as lightning, blocking Peter's attack.

Suddenly, her mind turned into a machine, telling her what to do.

Strike.

Dodge.

Parry.

Attack.

Swipe.

Stab.

Deflect.

Jump.

Strike.

They sparred for another hour, before Violet managed to disarm Peter once more, the sword flying out of his hands. But Peter wasn't finished yet. He kicked the sword out of Violet's hand, then tripping her with the same move. But as she fell, she grabbed his arms, pulling him down with her. Her mind suddenly shifted mode, from sword fighting to her karate classes back home. Peter's fist instinctively came flying at her face, but Violet, being experienced in this field of fighting, caught his fist, holding it merely inched away from her face.

"You don't wanna do that." Violet grinned wickedly.

"I'm willing to try," he replied. Big mistake.

She pushed his fist back, twisting it around and making him flip over, or risk dislocating his shoulder. Once he was lying face down in the grass, his arms pinned behind him and Violet sitting in the middle of his back, holding him down, she began to grin madly at Peter's shocked face.

"Problem?" she said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Peter was dumbfounded. He had been beaten by a girl. A _girl. _Even worse, a girl who, just mere hours ago didn't have a clue how to hold a sword. And her strength! It was unbelievable for a girl. And where had she learned to fist fight? A _girl…_

"How did you do that?" he croaked, still pinned to the ground. Violet giggled and let him up, holding out a hand to pull him up.

"Let's just say I make the boys in my taekwondo class squeal for mommy." She replied, laughing.

"But that was with your powers. But what can you do without them?"

"When I'm ready, I'll learn to fight properly."

"No." he said firmly. "What if you lose the necklace? There goes your powers. You need to be able to defend yourself under all circumstances, with or without your powers."

"Fine," she agreed. "But not today. I'm way too tired for that!"

Then they both collapsed on the spot, lying down in the lush, dewy grass which cooled down their backs. Both were drenched in sweat, making Violet's thin shirt cling to her thin figure. Peter couldn't help but stare a little. He knew Violet had a beautiful face, but she always hid the rest of herself under baggy clothes. His eyes travelled down her body, the slight curve of her hips and waist, the soft swell of her breasts, her long slender legs, stretched out, the small bulge of firm muscles on her biceps and abdomen. She was one of a kind. She wasn't a damsel in distress, she could fend for herself, could protect herself. But he was scared that it would only get her hurt at some point.

"You're staring at me again," Violet muttered uncomfortably. Peter looked away quickly, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Then they sat there in silence, both trying to avoid looking at each other, and failing miserably.

Then they both looked out at the view of the camp instead. Violet noticed on a far shore, a white building of some sorts.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"That, is Cair Paravel." a deep voice behind them said. Violet turned and did a double take when she saw a huge lion approaching them. She was terrified at first, but then she realized that this lion could only be Aslan. She looked into his cat eyes, a wonderful molten gold, and immediately felt as if she was staring into the face of God.

"Aslan," Peter greeted, bowing down on one knee. Violet followed his lead.

"Rise, both of you." The Great Lion said. They both got up.

"What's Cair Paravel?" Violet asked.

"It is the castle with the four thrones," Aslan replied. "On one of which you will sit Peter, as High King."

Peter and Violet remained silent, keeping their eyes locked on the distant castle. Violet felt that it was best to keep herself out of this one, while Peter wanted nothing but for her to speak up. But Aslan sensed their discomfort.

"You doubt the prophecy," Aslan said. It wasn't a question.

"No, that's just it," Peter replied, his voice filled with confusion. "Aslan, I'm not who you think I am!"

Violet could only imagine the pressure being tossed onto Peter's shoulders. He gets thrown into a magical world, and after a few days is expected to fight a war to liberate a country he didn't even know existed, then sit as Hing King and rule it – it was a rather big responsibility for a seventeen year old boy.

"Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley," Aslan mused. "Beaver also mentioned that you planned on turning him into a hat."

Violet looked quizzically at Peter, who chuckled and shook his head, giving her a look that clearly said it was a long story.

"Peter," the Lion continued. "There is a deep magic, more powerful than any of us that rules over Narnia. It defiens right from wrong, and governs all our destinies. Yours, and mine."

"But I couldn't even protect my own family!" Peter protested.

"You've brought them safely this far." Aslan pointed out.

Peter sighed. "Not all of them." 

"Peter," the Lion said firmly. "I will do what I can to help your brother. But I need you to consider what I ask of you. I too, want my family safe."

The Lion gave him a sad smile.

"As for you, Violet. You are the Guardian of Narnia. Surely you have heard people call you that already."

"I don't deserve that title," Violet muttered miserably. "I can't even protect myself, or Edmund when I was with him… let alone a whole country! If only I was stronger, I could've been able to prevent the Witch from taking Edmund. I could've protected him. I'm weak, and I hate it. I…I…"

"Violet," Peter said fiercely. "you are _not _weak. You're the strongest person I know, maybe not physically, but you can push yourself to do anything, your will to do what you want is amazing. Don't you ever call yourself weak, Violet."

"Peter is right," Aslan said. "When you were born, I marked you as a Narnian… as my own. By doing that, a part of my soul was torn out and became a part of you. From birth, you were destined to be Guardian of Narnia. I knew you were worth of the role and the title, otherwise I would've never marked you. It is why you feel so loyal to Narnia, why you are willing to do what you have done, go through unspeakable torture and still remain strong. In spirit, you are my daughter."

Violet was frozen in shock. Her? The daughter of Aslan?

"But… I have parents…"

"Yes, they are you biological parents. But in spirit, I am your father. It is difficult to accept, I understand that. But if you didn't have a part of me residing in you, you would've never survived putting on that necklace. It contains great power, and may turn anyone who isn't its rightful owner to ashes. As for your sword, it burst into flame only for you, not for Peter, or for anyone else. You are a born warrior, Violet. My spirit gave you that. There is a lioness inside you. You are strong."

"So… do I have to call you 'dad'?"

Aslan chuckled. "Only if you wish."

Suddenly, the sound of a horn pierced the air. Peter's eyes widened.

"Susan!" he gasped, then took off.

Violet looked back at Aslan, confusion clouding her face. Aslan only looked at her gravely, before speaking to her once more.

"All will be revealed in time. Now climb on my back. Peter will need help… and bring your weapons. We rescue Edmund tonight."

Then Violet climbed onto the back of the Great Lion, and they took off, the setting sun shining gloriously behind them both.

They arrived by the stream, where Susan and Lucy were up in tree, clinging on for dear life. Below them, two wolves were circling Peter who had his sword drawn, pointing it at the wolves. But no one had noticed Aslan arrive, followed by the rescue party for Edmund. Violet slid off his back, her sword drawn and at the ready. Aslan stood by her side, ready to pounce – and pounce he did. He roared as he leapt on one of the wolves, pinning it down with a single, powerful paw. Violet ran at the other wolf, ready to strike when Aslan held her back.

"No, stay your weapon," he commanded. "This Peter's battle."

Violet reluctantly stepped back, but kept her sword at the ready just in case things should go wrong.

"You may think you're a king," the wolf taunted, drawing nearer and nearer to the tip of Peter's blade. "But you're going to die… like a dog!"

Then the wolf snarled as he leapt on Peter, who disappeared under a body of fur.

"PETER!" the three girls screamed in unison. Lucy and Susan jumped from the tree, while Violet ran towards them, all of them running towards a common goal – Peter.

They all knelt next to the two bodies, neither of which were moving. Susan pushed the wolf off Peter, who sat up, shocked at what he had just done. In his hand was Rhindon, coated in blood and fur. He had killed the wolf.

Aslan released the wolf beneath his paw, who whimpered as he bounded towards to woods, desperate to escape.

"After him!" Aslan commanded, then looked at Violet, nodding. "It'll lead you to Edmund."

Violet nodded and got up, watching the three siblings hug. She truly was happy to see them like that, no fighting, bickering or squabbling. A family.

Oreius offered her a hand, indicating that she would be riding on his back. Violet smiled as she took it, climbing onto the centaurs back. Then, they took off after the wolf, towards the woods, towards Edmund.

They chased the wolf deep into the woods, and it wasn't until nightfall that they had reached the Witch's camp. Oreius galloped in at full speed, slicing through every obstacle, looking for Edmund. Violet spotted him amongst all the chaos, tied to a tree a couple of feet away.

"There he is!" Violet shouted, pointing at Edmund. She jumped off the centaur's back, landing gracefully on her feet. Not for the first time that day, she was glad she had changed out of the dress, despite how pretty it was.

She cut through everyone and everything that got in her way, and when she finally reached him, she pulled the gag out of his mouth and cut him free. She tried to pull him up, but he stayed put.

"What?" she snapped. "We have to go!"

"I'm so sorry Violet," he whispered.

"Now's not the time for apologies, Ed." She sighed, thrusting her sword into a dwarf who was about to stab Edmund with a very unfriendly looking dagger. "Come on, let's go!"

Then they both ran for it, not stopping until they were sure they were safe from any fighting.

"Okay," Violet said, turning to Edmund. "Now you can talk."

"Violet, I've been an absolute, pompous prick, an arrogant arse. First, being so horrid to you, then believing the Witch's lies, betraying you and everyone else for sweets and power, you getting beat up, left for dead… it's all entirely my fault. I'm so sorry Violet, and I'll understand if you don't want to forgive me or ever talk to me again."

Violet let out a low whistle, folding her arms across her chest.

"That's one heck of an apology you got there, Ed,"

But before Edmund could say anything more, Violet slapped him.

"That," she said. "Was for being a total jerk face."

"I guess I deserved that," Edmund sighed.

"Yeah, but you also deserve this."

Then she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Edmund stood there in shock, slowly hugging her back. Then he sighed in relief. She had forgiven him! A sweet scent filled his nostrils… vanilla and lilies. Under normal circumstances, this would've smelled weird, but because, he realized, it was coming from Violet… well, it was a rather nice smell. Wonderful, intoxicating, tantalizing…

"I'm glad we're friends." Violet murmured.

Edmund's heart nearly sank at her words. _Just friends. _He didn't like_ friends. _He now realized he wanted so much more. Wanted _her. _In the worst way possible. He'd been friend zoned.

"Me too," he said half-heartedly.

Edmund really hated his life.

It was sunrise when they had all finally arrived safely back at Aslan's camp.

And Aslan himself was there to greet them, Edmund especially.

"Violet, you may go rest. You have done well tonight." Aslan said, his voice full of authority. "Edmund, I would like to speak with you."

Edmund approached the Great Lion gingerly, his head down. Violet nodded towards them, bidding them farewell. She trudged down to her tent, plopping herself on her little cot, note even bothering to change.

Sleep graced her with its presence the moment she closed her eyes, but it didn't last long. It felt like only moments later when she was shaken awake.

"Violet, you should come eat," Lucy called softly.

"Violet groaned. "I'm not hungry."

"Rubbish. You haven't eaten since you got here, maybe even before then."

"How long have I been out?" she mumbled, getting up.

"You slept the whole of yesterday, and most of this morning."

"Wow, I haven't eaten in… three, four days!"

"Which is why you should join us now. We're all having a little brunch."

"I don't know, I just wanna sleep forever…"

"Come on, please?"

Then Lucy pulled on the cutest puppy face. And Violet just couldn't say no, not to that face.

"Fine," Violet groaned, getting up. Lucy left the tent, while Violet dug around for a fresh pair of breeches and a shirt, throwing them on. She walked to the small mirror on the table to fix herself up – after almost sleeping for two days she had to look like death – but instead, she gasped in shock.

The Violet she saw in the mirror was not Violet. At least, not the Violet she'd remembered the last time she'd looked into a mirror.

Her face glowed with radiance and happiness. The fleck of gold in her eyes seemed to light up, and her hair was no longer the lifeless hair she had paid 600 dollars to make like everyone else's. It was back to the wild, light brown curls she had been born with. This was the 'before' Violet, the confident, fun, and outgoing Violet.

"Violet, are you coming?" Lucy called from outside.

""Lucy, did you do something to my hair?"

"Oh," Lucy giggled. "It's probably Susan. She tried to see if she could get rid of the scars on your back. She had someone make a little something to… restore you back to your former physical self. And I guess, your former self is this. Why would you straighten your curls anyway? They're beautiful!"

"Meh, it's a fashion thing in the 21st century. Either dead straight hair or fake curls." Violet lied. It wasn't really lying. All the girls in her class had done the same thing, so she'd just tried to blend in.

"Never thought you were one for fashion," Lucy frowned. "Anyway, you should really come eat."

"You know," Violet said, as they exited the tent. "Sometimes I ask myself. Are you eleven or twenty one?"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Come on."

Lucy led Violet a little way away from her tent, to a little wooden table laden with food. The others were already eating, sitting around the table and chatting animatedly.

Susan heard someone approaching, and looked up to see Violet and Lucy. She smiled a little when she saw Violet. Now Peter would have no choice. She wasn't an idiot, and had noticed Peter dodging glances at Violet every five seconds. Yes, she and Lucy had watched Peter and Violet spar before getting attacked by the wolves by the stream. She had never seen Peter so happy and relaxed, not since the war began. She could tell he was taken by Violet. And Violet was taken by him too, she just didn't realize it yet. She smiled to herself. Soon, they both would.

"Violet! You can sit next to…" her voice faltered. Every seat was already taken.

"That's alright." Peter said, getting up and grabbing an apple. "She and Lucy can squeeze into my seat. I'm sure they can fit."

"Thanks Pete," Lucy chirped.

"No, Peter-" Violet began.

"I insist."

"Thanks," Violet muttered, blushing as she sat down, trying to ignore Lucy giggling and Susan's knowing smile.

Susan was still waiting for Edmund to come up with a smart thing to say to annoy Peter on his new girlfriend, but it never came. She looked up at him, to see him glance at Violet, then back down at his food, his face a deep red. He was supposed to be teasing Peter ruthlessly by now. When Peter had had his first girlfriend, Ed had driven his brother mad with endless dirty jokes, taunting and teasing. Peter had gotten so annoyed once, he had threatened to kill his little brother. Susan smiled at the memory of Peter chasing Edmund around the house with a cricket bat, his girlfriend standing on the porch looking rather amused.

She watched Edmund's eyes dart once again to Violet's face several time more during the meal, and it suddenly clicked in her mind. Violet had gone and gotten herself into a little love triangle. Yet, the girl remained completely and utterly unaware of this. She would have to talk to her about it.

"Narnia's not going to run out of toast, you two," Lucy laughed. Edmund and Violet were stuffing their faces with toast. It didn't taste like regular toast, but all Violet knew was that when the toast connected with her tongue, she might as well marry the thing.

"Then you'd better pack some for the journey home," Peter said casually, leaning on a boulder. He seemed to be at ease, but his electric blue eyes told Violet otherwise. He was confused, and trying to protect your family at the same time was not fun.

"We're going home?" Lucy said incredulously.

"Not happening." Violet said curtly. "You know why I can't. You know why _you _can't." I thought Aslan made that clear to us!"

"I never said you and I had to go, only the others. Narnia doesn't need them, and you can't expect someone like Lucy to fight in a war!"

"But Narnia needs us… all five of us." Lucy argued.

"Don't you see?" Peter exclaimed. "Lucy almost drowned! Edmund was almost killed! Violet was nearly beaten to death!"

"That's why we have to stay," Edmund said quietly. Everyone looked at him in surprise.

He took a deep breath and continued.

"I've seen what the Witch can do, and… I've helped her do it. We can't leave these people here to suffer for my mistakes. And I especially owe it to Violet, who was just trying to protect me. We all owe her."

"And why exactly do you guys care about what happens to me?" Violet said, her eyes narrowed.

"You're one of us now," Lucy said, smiling. "You may not be a Pevensie, but you're our friend."

"Wow… thanks."

"Well, I suppose that's it then." Susan said, getting up.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked.

Susan picked up her bow and quiver, grinning at them.

"To get some practice."

Soon, Lucy, Violet and Susan were at the archery field practicing with long range weapons.

Susan notched an arrow onto her bow, raised and aimed it, then released. The arrow whistled through the air, lodging itself on the blue ring, barely an inch away from the bull's eye.

Violet released hers, and it landed several rings Susan's arrow.

"Meh, I'm not too bad for a beginner. But Susan, where did you learn to do that?"

Susan didn't reply, but only notched another arrow, concentrating on getting it to hit the bull's eye this time. But before she even released the arrow, a dagger flew past, planting itself in the bull's eye, dead centre. Susan and Violet looked at Lucy, dumbfounded. Lucy just smiled smugly and went to retrieve her dagger.

Violet shook her head and dropped her bow.

"I think I'm going to go practice with Peter and Edmund now." Violet announced, walking away.

"Hold on Violet," Susan called, running up to her. "I need to talk to you."

Violet eyed her serious expression, then nodded.

"What is it?" Violet asked.

"I just wanted to ask… surely you've noticed my brothers… well, you know… notice you."

"Yes, of course, I'm not blind." Violet replied, eyes narrowed. "Your point?"

Susan was angered. So Violet did know. And she was going to lead them around, knowing she had them wrapped around her finger.

"My point being that I just want you to know we're not going to let you take advantage of this. I'm not blind either, and neither is Lucy. We've noticed you looking at Peter, and Edmund's so horrible at hiding his feelings. Whoever you choose, just make sure the other doesn't get hurt."

"Hold on. First, I do _not _stare at Peter. Second, Edmund is perfectly fine with us just being friends, he's said so himself. And I'm not choosing either of them. I don't date Susan, especially during the middle of a war."

"Well, whether you like it or not, you're in denial. First sign of love."Susan grinned. She'd mistaken Violet's ignorance for Peter and Edmund as something else entirely, and now knew how to work her magic.

"Look, I don't want to have anything to do with this. What Peter's feeling is just lust, it'll fade. They're boys Susan, it's what they do. All that's on their mind is sex, never love. It's easier to be friends, that way, you'll know your best friend isn't going to rape you."

And with that, Violet unsheathed her sword and stabbed in into the ground with all her might. She was breathing heavily, eyes shut tight, when she realized what she had let slip.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, though she knew exactly what Violet meant.

"It's nothing. Just a bad boyfriend." Violet muttered. She was lying, Susan knew it.

"No, it's more than that. Violet, what happened?" Susan asked gently.

"Look, the past is past, I can't change what happened." Violet replied in a hard tone. "And in a way, I'm thankful it happened. It shaped me into what I am today; forewarned, self-defensive, and strong. Now I don't have to suffer the consequences of the hormones of the teenage girl."

"Violet, you can't let one boy change your opinion on all boys!" Susan said exasperatedly. "And Peter and Edmund aren't like that. None of them could hurt a fly, and Peter's refused to do anything besides give a girl a peck on the cheek. You can't turn every male human being you see into the one that… hurt you."

"Why don't you try getting raped at eleven, see if you feel any different!" Violet snapped.

"Susan, Violet, is everything alright?" Lucy called, approaching.

"Yes we're fine, go back to practicing!" Susan called back. As soon as she saw Lucy's retreating back, she yanked Violet a long way away from Lucy's innocent ears and eyes, in a tent filled with old and broken armour.

"Look Susan. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't,"

"So you want to."

Yes- no! I don't! Stop trying to confuse me. I just can't trust anyone anymore. It's easier. Susan, he took everything away from me. He ruined me! He took it all away…"

Violet stopped talking, a hard look in her eyes, but Susan wasn't blind and could see the tears shining there.

"You don't always have to be so strong, you know." Susan said softly.

"I have to, or I'm not going to make it."

"Come here," Susan said gently, pulling Violet into a hug. Violet cried quietly on Susan's shoulder, opening herself to someone she had barely known a week.

After a while, the tears ceased, and Violet wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"Sorry about that," she said, sniffling. "Now your dress is all ruined."

"It's alright, you just needed a shoulder to cry on."

"You know, I think I've cried more this week than in the past three years all put together."

"You need to let it out sometimes, Violet. You don't always have to be alone," Susan said gently.

"But what if I want to?" Violet sighed. "Never mind. I think I might still go practice with Peter and Edmund, I need to learn to fight without my powers. Oh, and please, don't tell anyone about this, please?"

"Not a word." Susan promised.

"Thanks," Violet said, smiling. And with that, she ran out of the tent, to the training fields once more.

She found Edmund and Peter sparring on steeds, their laughter ringing through the grounds, But when they saw Violet approaching, they stopped.

"Hey, Violet!" Peter called.

Edmund just kept his head down.

"What's up guys?" Violet greeted. "You promised you would teach me to fight. Properly."

"Then what was that when you… picked me up from the Witch's?" Edmund asked.

"My powers. Long story," Violet added, pocketing her necklace. "Let's get this started,"

"Prepare yourself for the fight of your life," Peter grinned, holding up his sword.

"You know what, I think I'll sit this one out," Edmund said, sheathing his sword and walking away.

"Okay, but you're going to miss all the fun," Peter shrugged.

"I'm ready," she said, unsheathing Ignis.

He attacked her first, and Violet swung her sword in an upward motion, blocking the blade.

"Not bad," Peter nodded. "But mind your posture. Keep your feet apart for balance, so this won't happen so easily."

"What won't happen so easily?"

Then he brought his sword down on her hard, hers barely managing to deflect it. But the force of the strike was too much for Violet to take, and she collapsed under the pressure of his sword on hers.

"That," he said flatly. "Now come on, get up!"

Violet got up. As they continued to fight through trial and error, she continued to pick up all Peter's advice very quickly, and she was making very good progress.

_You are a born warrior Violet. My spirit gave you that. There is a lioness inside you._

After a couple of hours, Peter decided to progress to fighting while riding, in which Peter joined them. Violet was learning so fast, even without her powers. She had picked a beautiful horse of pure black as hers, named Summer. As soon as Violet laid eyes on her, she had felt a connection with the horse… and apparently, the feeling was mutual. Or so the horse had told her. She was a little shocked at first, but she reminded herself this wasn't the first of talking animals she had come across.

"Jesus Christ, how am I doing this?" Violet asked breathlessly while they sparred.

"I don't know, but keep doing it and we all might make it out alive from this war." Peter said through a stiff jaw.

She raised her sword in time to block both Edmund and Peter's sword from slicing her neck, and she grinned and she put all her strength into the sword, pushing away the two swords which had crossed in the air. The fight went on.

"Come on, Edmund!" Peter laughed. "Sword up, like Oreius told you!"

They galloped a little closer to the camp, laughing as their swords clashed and glinted in the late afternoon sun. Suddenly, Edmund's horse whinnied and bucked up on his hind legs.

"Woah, horsie!" Edmund exclaimed.

"My name, is Phillip." The horse replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

Violet snickered, as Edmund turned red, babbling his apologies. Then a voice yelled from Phillip's feet.

"Your majesties and milady, the White Witch is here to see Aslan!"

They all looked down to see Mr. Beaver, gasping and panting for air. He must have run the whole way.

"What, the Witch?" Violet asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Yes, now come on!"

They all looked at each other silently, before galloping off at full speed back to the camp.

The Narnians were booing and jeering and hissing at the White Witch, who was sitting in a wooden throne carried on the shoulders of four Cyclopes. The Witch was lowered as she reached the front of Aslan's tent. After a long while, Aslan finally came out of the tent, a hard glare in his molten gold eyes, fixed on the Witch.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan," the witch sneered.

"His betrayal was not towards you." Aslan replied smoothly, but Violet could sense that another careless, pestering word from the Witch would provoke the anger bubbling in the Great Lion's features.

"Have you forgotten of the Deep Magic?" the Witch said in mock surprise.

"Do _not _cite the Deep Magic to _me _Witch," Aslan snarled, baring his teeth and exposing rather long and sharp canine fangs. "I was there when it was written."

"Then, you should remember that every traitor belongs to me," the Witch said, a smile lingering on her lips. "If I am denied of this right, then all of Narnia shall perish in water and fire."

Her words sent murmurs running through the crowds. Should they sacrifice their king for the sake of Narnia? He may have been their king, but he was also a traitor.

"His blood is mine. That boy," the Witch said, pointing her wand at Edmund. "Will die on the Stone Table… as is tradition."

"Then you'll have to get through us first," Peter said defiantly, pulling out his sword and bravely pointing it at the Witch.

"Do you _really _think mere force can stop me… little king?" the Witch sneered. Peter blinked in shock at being addressed like that, like a little child. He stepped back, looking fallen, crushed and demoralized.

Violet saw this and was outraged. She knew enough to know that these four siblings held more authority than the Witch could ever get her claw-like fingers on, by Narnian standards. Peter should have had more respect from that Witch.

"How _dare_ you address the High King, _your _king, like that!" Violet snarled. "And he's right. You're going to have to pry this family from my cold, dead hands, Ice Bitch."

Violet pulled out her sword and raised it, ready to strike if she had to.

"Enough!" Aslan commanded in a clear voice. "I will speak with you. Alone."

Then the Witch walked forward, entering the tent. Aslan followed, but stopped right at the entrance. He turned to Violet, nodding his head.

"Come, Violet. As you are Guardian, you have a right to take part in this… negotiation."

Violet frowned, but entered the tent obediently.

Aslan was pacing the tent silently, while Violet and the Witch were left to glare at each other. Then the latter smiled sweetly.

"I see you still haven't learnt to control that wild tongue of yours," she said in a falsely sweet voice.

"And I see that you're still deluded into thinking that you could even be worthy enough to sniff the dirt from the Pevensies' feet." Violet replied in an even more falsely sweet voice.

"That's enough from the both of you." Aslan snapped. "Now to business. Edmund cannot die."

"But the Deep Magic- "

"Silence Witch, I have not finished. I will go in his stead."

Silence.

Then all Hell broke loose.

"Aslan, you can't!" Violet exclaimed.

"I like this arrangement very much," the Witch said with a cruel smile.

"SHUT UP!" Violet shrieked, completely losing it. "YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY OF US!"

"How _dare_-"

"Oh yeah, I dare,"

"SILENCE!" Aslan roared.

The Witch and the Guardian shut up.

"It is final." Aslan said, his tone making it clear that he was not to be contradicted. "I will take Edmund's place on the Stone Table."

Then Witch walked out looking very satisfied, a smirk on her face.

"Why?" Violet whispered to Aslan.

"It simply must be done." Aslan said softly. "Be brave, Violet."

She threw her arms around the Great Lion, burying her face in his golden mane.

"Don't be afraid, Violet. A part of me has always been, and will always be with you. You are never alone."

And with that, they followed the Witch out of the tent. Violet saw the four siblings, sitting miserably on the grass. When they saw that the negotiations inside were over, they got up and gave her and Aslan a look so desperate, it made Violet want to scream at the sky, crawl under a rock and hope to die.

"The Witch has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam." Aslan announced.

The Witch stomped grudgingly back to her throne as the camp erupted into cheers.

"How will I know your promise will be kept?" the Witch asked, trying for the last time to strike a blow at Aslan.

Aslan's response was to release an almighty roar, scaring the Witch into racing back to her throne and sitting in it quickly. The rest of the Narnians jeered at the Witch for her cowardice, and cheered for their temporary victory, for their kings and queens, for their guardian, for Aslan.

Violet couldn't help but notice that the four siblings were oblivious to the uproar around them, only rejoicing in the safe return of their brother. If only they knew that this happiness would be temporary. But Violet plastered on a huge, fake smile and went up to them.

Lucy pulled away from her siblings, to see Violet standing next to them.

"Thank you, Violet." Lucy said. "Now we can definitely win the war!"

"Of course," Violet said.

Lucy found something wrong. Violet's smile didn't reach her eyes. Her usually bright eyes were filled with desperation and sadness.

"Violet, is everything alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She lied. Little did they know the price they had paid for their brother's life. Their one chance of winning the war, the last, remaining hope Narnia had.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… I just need a minute."

Then Violet took off, leaving Lucy confused. She looked at Aslan, silently asking what on Earth was happening. Aslan just shook his head, his fierce golden eyes filled with sadness.

Lucy knew at that moment something was going on. She wasn't getting the whole story, and Lucy hated secrets, especially when she wasn't in on them. There was more to Edmund's release, and she was determined to find out… and she had a plan.

It was pretty late. Almost everyone had already gone to sleep to rest for the upcoming battle the next day. And poor Peter was still looking for Violet, who had not been seen since the Witch had left. He sighed as he remembered how Lucy had… persuaded Peter to go look for Violet…

"_Peter!" Lucy called, running up to him after dinner. "Have you seen Violet?"_

"_No," Peter frowned. "But I guess she just needs some time alone, you know how she is. Why?"_

"_Do you _really _need a reason to go looking for her?" Lucy smirked._

"_Lucy!" Peter exclaimed. "You're eleven! Where did you learn to talk like that?!" But Peter already knew the answer before Lucy replied. Who else would it be?_

"_Ask a certain dark haired Pevensie." She shrugged._

"_Right…" Peter made a mental note to go beat up Edmund later._

"_So… why don't you go find her?" Lucy asked, batting her eyelashes innocently._

"_Who?"_

"_You know who I'm talking about."_

"_It's late Lu," Peter sighed. "I'm tired, I've got a war to fight tomorrow, _and _it's way past your bedtime."_

"_Please Peter?" Lucy murmured, pulling a puppy face. But not just any puppy face, _the _puppy face. The one that could make Peter do anything. The one that made Peter play hide-n-seek, that ended with Lucy discovering Narnia._

_Peter's face drained of colour. _Oh no, _he thought. _Not the puppy face, anything but the puppy face!

"_Dear God, Lu," Peter groaned. "You'll be the death of me, I swear!"_

_Her puppy face intensified in cuteness._

"_Fine, I'll go look for her." Peter sighed, giving in._

"_Thanks Peter, you're the best! You won't regret it!" Lucy said, breaking into a huge grin and quickly hugging Peter, before skipping off._

_Lucy smiled to herself. Mission completed._

_He sighed, walking off to go look for Violet. _

Peter smiled to himself; anything to keep that beautiful smile on his youngest sister's face.

"Excuse me," he asked a passing faun. "Have you seen Violet?"

"You mean the young lady who took my guitar?" the faun replied. "Yeah, she went off to the training fields."

"Thank you, and I'll make sure to get it back for you," Peter chuckled.

"No need. She can have it if she really wants it."

"Thank you again."

Then when he finally reached the training fields, it was empty. Maybe she had left, so he turned around to go back. But then he heard the sound of strings being plucked in a steady rhythm, a beautiful but somewhat saddening melody drifting through the air. Peter followed the sound across the training fields, all the way to the far end where the cliff was, the one where Aslan had explained their destinies earlier that day.

He saw a lone figure perched on the edge, holding a guitar and swinging her legs carelessly off the edge. He approached who he thought could only be Violet, and sat down on a small boulder a couple of feet behind her, listening to the song she was playing.

He loved the way her fingers seemed to dance across the strings, almost as if they had a life of their own. She had rolled up her sleeves, exposing her skin to the cool night air. His eyes travelled to her face, her eyes closed, and a slight smile playing on her pink lips. He wondered in awe how she could have been playing so well if she couldn't even see what she was doing.

A slight breeze rustled through her hair, and he noticed her new curls, wild and beautiful, the moonlight bouncing off it, and on her face as well, making her look radiant. So beautiful…

The song came to an end, and that was when Peter decided to make his presence known.

"That was absolutely amazing," he said softly.

"Violet's eyes shot open, turning around abruptly too see who it was.

"Oh, it's just you." She sighed in relief. "It's the easiest song in the book, and the easiest way to impress others. Do you need anything?"

"N-no," Peter stuttered. "Lucy just asked me to look for you. Where were you all day?"

"In my tent." She replied curtly. "Can you please just go? I need to be alone."

"But-"

"Look, I'm not really a people person, why can't you understand that?"

"But you don't always have to be alone, you know. Everyone needs to be around people sometimes. It's how humans were programmed to be."

"I know, but I'm different." Violet sighed. "I don't like being around people, cause not everyone could be trusted. I even take karate classes just to be able to defend myself. There are bad people where I come from. Serial killers, rapists, psychopaths. Maybe it's a good thing not to be a people person, in my world."

"You know," Peter mused. "You're different from the girls back home. They're all complete airheads-"

"Are they blonde?" Violet asked, smirking.

"Most of them are," Peter laughed. "And none of them can do anything for themselves. Always fiddling with their hair, batting their eyelashes so much it looks like they're having seizures or something!" 

"Doesn't sound too different from the girls at my school." Violet said darkly. "Except maybe I've got it worse. Girls of the 21st century just _love _to roll their skirts up, so the hem is just about here,"

Violet pointed to somewhere high on her thigh. Peter's eyes widened.

"That sounds very… revealing." Peter gulped.

Then they sat there for hours, exchanging stories about society and it's flaws, stupid rules and expectations, laughing until Peter brought up another subject.

"You're from the 21st century, right?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Is the war over? You know, the one with the Nazis."

"Yeah, it ended in 1945, not too far from your time. Just a couple of years."

"Who won, the Nazis or the Allies?"

"You're asking a lot of questions, you know."

"Just tell me."

"Well, if the Nazis won, my family would be dead. I'm Catholic you know. So the Allies won. Hitler committed suicide, shot himself in the head."

"Why would he do that?" Peter asked incredulously.

"He heard the Russians were out to get him. It was cause he tried on attack on them-"

"He tried to attack Russia?!"

"Yeah, pretty stupid considering the Russians were about ten times more powerful than him. So by killing himself, the Russians never got the chance to kill him, and that was his own little victory."

"Interesting…" Peter muttered. They stayed silent for a while, neither sure what to say next.

"So do you sing?" Peter asked, breaking the silence.

"And what makes you assume that?"

"Well, you play guitar, so you have to sing with it eventually." Peter shrugged.

"No, I can't sing very well." Violet said.

"Well I want to hear just the same."

"Look, it's just a hobby, I don't do any of this stuff very well!"

"Come on, just one song, please?"

"Alright…"

Violet settled on one of her favorite songs. As her fingers danced through the intro, Peter watched her intently, admiring the music. And then Violet began to sing.

"_Put your head on my shoulder,_

_Hold me in your arms, baby._

_Squeeze me oh so tight, show me,_

_That you love me too._

_Put your lips next to mine, dear._

_Won't you kiss me once, baby._

_Just a kiss goodnight, maybe,_

_You and I could be in love._

_Some people say, _

_That love's a game._

_A game you just can't win._

_If there's a way,_

_I'll find it someday…"_

Peter was mesmerized, and he found himself inching closer and closer to Violet, as she continued to sing.

"_Put your head on my shoulder,_

_Whisper in my ear, baby._

_Words I long to hear, maybe,_

_You and I could fall in love."_

Violet strummed the last chord, now fully aware that Peter was barely inches away from her. She took a leap of faith, and turned to face him. His electric blue eyes pierced hers, and she couldn't help but gaze into the intensity of it. His face inched closer to hers, so close that she could see every detail of his face, every feature, every freckle, every blemish.

"That was beautiful," he murmured.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Their lips met in a sweet kiss. And for once, in her mind's eye, she saw blue eyes, not brown, blond locks, not dark curls, pale skin, not chocolate.

She saw Peter.

Her lips moved in sync with his, his soft lips caressing hers so gently. Gentle. That was Peter. He was gentle. She couldn't help but lightly moan when his teeth grazed her lower lip, oh so gently. She never wanted this to end, but it did.

"Peter?" Violet whispered.

Yes?"

"You're the only guy I ever let kiss me."

"I'm glad you did." Peter said, smiling, his hand cupping her cheek. "But I think it's time we went to bed. People might think…"

"Yeah," Violet sighed. He helped her up, and he walked her all the way to her tent. He even tucked her in, and smiled as she instantly fell asleep. For once, her face was devoid of worry lines, replaced by peacefulness and a slight smile.

He got up to leave, but then something caught his eye, lying at the foot of her cot. It was the small notebook he had given to her back in England. He picked it up and flipped through it, rather astounded by its contents. Instead of the diary entries he had expected, he found that she'd turned it into a sketchbook.

She drew just about anything, including some strange lettering that looked like a bunch of curvy lines, barely legible. Beneath the drawing, she had labeled it "graffiti". Another few pages were filled with realistic sketches of random objects. A glass of water, a plate of bread. And then he found some sketches of him and his siblings. There was Lucy sitting under a tree, reading a book. There was Susan, throwing a ball at Peter. There was Edmund, violently hitting a ball, supposedly the one that had broken the window.

Violet was a like a book, just filled with secrets and abilities, just waiting to be discovered. He wondered what else she could do… he would ask her about it in the morning.

He went to sleep that night, with sweet dreams of cricket, guitars and pencil sketches, accompanied by sweet music.

Something was gently brushing against Peter's face. He got up abruptly, grabbing his sword from his nightstand and pointing it at nowhere in particular.

"Ed! Wake up!" he hissed. Edmund sat up sleepily, looking around, disorientated. Then they both noticed a female figure formed from leaves and petal,s hovering above them; a tree nymph.

"Be still, my princes." She said in a soothing tone. "I bring grave news from your sisters."

As soon as Peter heard what she had to say, he bolted out of his tent, sprinting to Aslan's tent, determined to find the Great Lion inside. He emerged a few moments later, with a traumatized look on his face.

"Peter?" a high pitched voice said.

He looked up to see Violet, Edmund and Oreius, all staring at him. Violet's face was contorted with rage, a hard glare in her eyes.

"Tell me he's in there… TELL ME HE'S THERE!" Violet shouted.

"He's gone." Peter croaked.

Violet blinked back tears, her face still twisted in a mask of anger.

"Jesus, I could have stopped this," she muttered to herself, slowly getting louder and louder. "I'm so sorry Peter, I could have stopped this but I didn't. This was my fault! I-"

"Hang on," Edmund said. "How is this your fault?"

"I knew this was going to happen! I took part in the negotiations, remember? By God, I could have stopped this!" she shouted, her voice reaching a shriek. I'm so sorry, I'm-"

The tears began to pour, but this wasn't sadness, this was anger and regret. Woulda, shoulda, coulda.

"Violet stop," Oreius said firmly. "None of this is your fault. You could have never been able to stop someone like Aslan. If this is the way Aslan wanted things to be, it is the way it should be. We shall have to accept it."

She wiped away her tears angrily, sniffling.

"I'm sorry for losing it like that." She mumbled. "It's just that without Aslan, we've got no hope of winning against the Witch. That and he was kind of my father. What are we going to do?"

"We still have you, and Peter must be the one to lead us now."

"But I can't!" Peter exclaimed.

"Yes you can, you have to. You're High King, remember?" Violet encouraged.

"And Aslan believed you could." Edmund said.

"Look Peter," Violet said gently. "You can do this. We all believe in you… that sounded a little cheesy, but it's true."

Peter was silent for a while, hot sure what to do. He was only a teenage boy from Finchley, and he wasn't sure he was ready to do this. But then his gut feeling kicked in. It didn't matter if he was ready or not. He owed these people. They rescued Edmund, they took care of Lucy and Susan, protected hhis family while he couldn't. He then held his head high, looking straight at Oreius.

"Gather the troops." he ordered. "We have a war to fight."

Oreius bowed, smiling, glad that Peter was beginning to take control and act like a leader. Then they both went away, discussing a battle plan, leaving Violet and Edmund alone.

"So you guys are together now?" Edmund said in a hard tone. He couldn't believe it. Just when he realized he fancied a girl, she was suddenly unavailable, taken by his own brother. And because he and Peter were brothers, there was nothing he could do about it.

"I guess," Violet sighed, still a little teary. "It's just so hard, knowing Aslan won't be there, now that I know he's like a spiritual father to me."

"Well, at least Peter will be there," he sniffed.

"Yeah, about that." Violet said. Edmund's heart leapt, a glimmer of hope lighting up inside him. "I need to know you're okay with that. I know he's your brother and all. I don't want to make thing worse between you. Let's just say a little birdy told me you uh… have feelings, for me. A very reliable bird too."

Edmund's heart sank back to its usual spot, somewhere below his stomach.

"What? No!" Edmund said, laughing lightly. "I mean, you're pretty and all, but you're like a best friend, to me, a sister. That's as far as those 'feelings' go. You don't have to worry about anything."

He mentally slapped himself. Now why did he say that?

_Idiot, _he cursed himself.

"Thanks Ed," Violet said, smiling a small, teary smile.

"No problem," he replied, in a falsely cheerful voice, which Violet was too smart to miss.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Who would? I mean, we're fighting a war in a couple of hours!"

"Okay, okay." Violet said. "Well, we'd better get some breakfast."

But as they walked towards their most important meal for the day, for the first time in ages he didn't feel like eating. And that was never a good sign for Edmund.

Violet looked at the armor laid neatly on her cot, having no clue at all how to put it on. After having a full breakfast, the moment she had pushed open the flap of her tent, the armor was only another reminder that she could die today. It was a pretty good motivation for her stomach to send its contents right back up.

She sighed in frustration, and went outside to go look for a dryad or someone to help her get suited up, when she bumped into a wall of armor.

"Violet! Why aren't you in your armor yet?"

She had to just go and bump into Peter. At least it was someone who could help her. But the sight of Peter in armor, combined with the nerves of her possible death looming closer, and _that _combined with the scrambled eggs churning in her stomach was not good at all. By God, Peter was eye candy in that armor, his blond hair all ruffled up, his face slightly flushed and his bright blue eyes… well, bright.

"Well… I kind of didn't know how to put on the stuff…" Violet muttered.

"That's alright," Peter laughed. "I didn't know how to either. But Oreius helped me. Do you want me to…?"

"Um yeah, I guess." Violet said, blushing at the prospect of getting changed in front of Peter. She reminded herself again that he was a Pevensie to be trusted, and that he wouldn't do anything to her. She went inside the tent, and he followed her in. She went behind a little curtain so he wouldn't need to see anything.

"Just throw me the stuff I should put on first," she called from behind the curtain.

"Alright," he replied, grabbing the first bits of armor. But just as he turned to toss it over the curtain, a ray of sunlight filtered in through the tent, so he could see the silhouette of Violet, from behind the curtain… well, changing. Each curve and line was visible, and he had to turn away before anything else happened. She drove him mad, with everything that she did. Everything about her was just so magnetic, pulling him towards her. Thankfully, the sunlight faded, and there was nothing to be seen.

"Here's the first bit," he said, tossing it over. "But if you need any help-"

"I don't," Violet said, poking her head out from behind the curtain and glaring at him. He caught a glimpse of her bare shoulder, but quickly looked away.

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in defense. "Just trying to help…"

He threw over piece after piece, until he was down to a few outer bits of armor, chainmail pants, and a thick skirt. It wasn't chainmail, but it was thick and strong enough to prevent as sword from slicing through.

"Violet?" he called. "Do you want the skirt or the pants?"

"Have you tried prancing around in a skirt while trying to defends your life?"

"Er…no?"

"Neither have I. but I guess the pants would be more practical."

"Alright…" he said, tossing over the pants.

After a while, Violet came out looking rather flustered.

"God, there's so many layers!" she complained. "It's so stuffy!"

"But they save your life, so that trumps everything."

"I guess," she shrugged. "So where are the final pieces?"

He picked up a leather corset-like piece and began strapping it on. It was designed fro women, so that certain body parts wouldn't be crushed. Then he helped her strap on the rest of her armor, and she was done.

Violet looked at herself in the mirror, barely able to recognize herself. Aslan was right; she was a born warrior. She strapped her sword to her hip, and double checked to make sure her necklace was secure, under the armor.

"So, how do I look?" she said, turning to Peter.

"You look… terrifying," he replied. "Like a true warrior."

"Good. That's the impression I want to give to the enemy." She said smugly. "Come on, let's go!"

Peter had left out the part where he also found her to be extremely alluring. The way she looked terrifying and beautiful at the same time, everything slightly feminine, there was no denying it. Violet McMillan looked sexy in armor.

They were all assembled on the battlefield, and had sent a griffin to get a glimpse of the Witch's army on the far side.

"Your majesty! Milady!" the griffin called, landing next to them and extremely out of breath. "The Witch's army approaches in great numbers,"

"Numbers do not win a battle," Oreius said wisely.

"No," Peter said miserably. "But they do help."

"You don't say," Violet snorted.

Peter Violet and Oreius were leading the Narnians; Peter on his brilliantly white unicorn, Violet on her black stallion, Summer, and Oreius on his own hooves. Edmund stood with the archers, where he was to direct them what to do. Susan and Lucy were still nowhere to be found.

Soon, a horn sounded in the distance, and a colossal army of all sorts of dark creatures, black dwarves, minotaurs, white tigers, hags werewolves, giants and more stormed onto the battlefield, letting out a deafening roar. Leading them was none other than the White Witch herself, riding on a chariot pulled by what looked like polar bears.

The Witch had come close enough for the Narnians to see, and what Violet saw made her blood boil. The Witch was wearing a dress of fur, but not just any fur. Aslan's mane. The bodice of the Witch's dress had been sewn with Aslan's mane. Violet had to restrain herself from attacking the Witch there and then, and decided to release her anger verbally instead.

"I ought to kill that bitch," she snarled. "rip her limbs off one by one, then eat them for dinner when we win."

Peter looked at Violet as if she was mad, slightly intimidated by her anger.

"I hope you don't mind sharing," Peter joked, trying to calm her down.

"You've seen me eat, I don't share." She snapped back.

"Okay," Peter said, raising his arms in defense, then became serious.

"Are you two with me?"

"To the death," Oreius said, bowing.

"I'm never leaving you," Violet said in a hard tone. But Peter caught the double meaning in her words, giving him the strength to do what needed to be done.

"FOR NARNIA, AND FOR ASLAN!" Peter roared, and the Narnians charged.

Violet let out a similar battle cry, staying true to her words and charging alongside Peter.

The cheetahs who'd originally flanked Peter charged ahead, ready to meet the opposition first.

The centaurs and anyone on horseback lowered their swords and deadly spears, ready to run then through anyone who dared attack them.

The archers held their breath, taking aim at Edmund's command.

The animals were the first to collide, launching themselves at each other. Next were the men on horseback, followed by anyone on foot.

What were once organized troops, were now humans and magical creatures alike, strewn across the battlefield, alive and fighting or dead and being trampled over.

Halfway through the battle, the Narnians had already used their last surprise; a phoenix who was able to set a wall of fire around the Witch's army. But it was quickly demolished by the Witch herself. The Narnians were getting desperate. The battle was not at all going well for them

Everywhere Violet looked, she saw another Narnian falling, another dark creature triumph over their fallen victim. Yet, this didn't discourage Violet, that she could possibly be one of those fallen victims. No, she was driven with immense rage. Every Narnian that feel only pushed Violet to fight all the more. She had turned into a deadly killing machine, almost invincible. She struck down everyone in her path with terrifying rage, her sword now on fire. The hot metal glowed as it sliced through the enemy, only seeming to become stronger and more deadly.

Peter had long since fallen off his steed, and had to fight on foot instead. Every now and then, he would see Violet whiz by, and boy was the sight of her horrific. Her face was twisted into a mask of pure rage, still managing to look both beautiful and dangerous. Her armor was splattered with blood, and she was literally glowing a bright red, which Peter figured could only be her powers kicking in at full speed ahead.

As the battle progressed under the glaring sun beating down on them mercilessly, Peter noticed several stone statues strewn across the grass.

_That's odd, _he thought, as he plunged his sword into an oncoming minotaur's chest.

Then an explanation came riding into sight. The Witch was thrusting her wand into anyone who dared to approach, instantly turning them to stone in a brilliant flash of white.

Two griffins had flown over her, hoping to have an advantage in the air. They were turned to stone.

So was a centaur.

So was a faun.

So was a cheetah.

Peter looked to Oreius desperately, who nodded gravely. He then gave an almighty cry, as he and his rhino charged at the Witch.

"NO!" Peter cried. He knew Oreius would never stand a chance against the Witch, not while she had her wand.

The rhino bashed her chariot over. But before Oreius could even raise his sword on her, The Witch drove her wand into his torso, turning him into another lifeless statue.

Peter felt like collapsing, but it was by sheer will and anger that he pushed himself to fight. He had to fight. He had to… but Edmund didn't. And Neither did Violet. They had both done enough for Narnia. He searched for them through the midst of blood and corpses, armor and weapons, dark and light creatures and he found them fighting alongside each other. He ran over to them, killing anything that came in his path.

"Edmund!" he yelled over the sound of hundreds of people dying. "Get the girls, and get them home!"

"I'm not leaving," Violet said fiercely.

"Neither am I," Edmund said. "For Aslan, Peter. We're not done here."

"Yes you are." Peter replied with equal ferocity. "You've done enough here. Go home."

"Not a chance." Violet said, lifting his visor and kissing him passionately.

"Watch out!" Edmund said. A black dwarf was about to stab the two lovers, but Edmund had intercepted the blade, knocking it out of the dwarf's hand and slicing through him.

"Violet, please, go home," Peter pleaded.

She and Edmund only took off towards the Witch, both knowing that the wand had to be destroyed.

"Kissing in the middle of a battle, eh?" Edmund asked, as they both fought their way towards the Witch.

"Shut up, it was the only way to make him let us stay." Violet replied.

The both charged at the Witch, Violet reaching her first. As her flaming sword connected with the Witch's wand, a bright golden light erupted between them, blasting the both of them back.

Edmund took advantage of the Witch's temporary disorientation, and drove his sword through her wand, shattering into a million pieces with a brilliant flash of blue.

The Witch's eyes filled with anger and she raised her wand.

"EDMUND!" Violet screamed, getting up and running towards them.

But it was too late.

The Witch thrust the broken shaft, which was still deadly sharp, into the chink in Edmund's armor. Time seemed to slow down as Edmund gasped in pain, doubling over and falling to the ground.

Peter saw this, and his world turned red. The sounds of the battle faded, and all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears, the rage coursing through his blood. He roared in anger, violently thrusting his sword into a minotaur's back. He stormed towards the Witch, who was now dueling with Violet.

When Violet saw Edmund being struck down, she literally burst into flames. Whether it was because of her powers, or her anger, or both, she never found out, even to this day. All she knew was that the Witch was no longer allowed to exist, in her mind. Apart from the bloody tatters of the Witch's skin, nothing was allowed to be left of her.

Violet's flaming sword collided with the Witch's wand once more, emitting yet another flash of golden light, now dripping down like liquid gold from their weapons. But this time, both held their ground, neither willing to back down.

Peter saw Violet erupt into flames, and that was when he finally understood Father Christmas' words.

_She will hold power that will counter that of the Witch's. _

Ice and Fire collided again, and again.

They dueled for what seemed like forever, and even longer. Violet finally realized the full extent of her powers, and even in the midst of a battle, decided to experiment with it. And even if anyone got hurt in the process, she would make sure the object of hurt would be the Witch. She concentrated on a small part of her palm, until a ball of fire took form there. She shot the ball at the Witch, the flames taking the form of a lioness.


	14. Author's Note 2

Hey guys, I just realized I put like half my draft of Icy Violets for the last chapter, the bad draft. I should have checked it sooner, but I only realized it now, when I saw chapter 11 repeated in the beginning of chapter 12, and how chapter 12 had like 10,000 words in it, _and _when I saw how the end of the chapter was such a bad cliffhanger, an unfinished paragraph.

I'll replace it with the intended chapter tomorrow, when I have time, cause it's like 12:35 am right now.

But since I put what was supposed to be part of chapter 13 in chapter 12, you're going to have to wait a little longer for 13, since I have to type out more stuff. I originally intended to leave Peter and Violet's kiss and the Battle of Beruna for chapter 13, so there's a spoiler right there.

So sorry for the mix up, but I thought I should let you guys know, just in case. If there's something you guys find messy or don't like about Icy Violets, I would like you guys to tell me in a review, cause I want to make this as enjoyable for everyone to read. Also, any typos or grammar stuff, just tell me. I won't flip out, I'll take your advice and opinions. So sorry again, and I'll have a new chapter for you up by tomorrow!


	15. Chapter 13

"Maybe I should turn up the heat, Ice Bitch," Violet smirked, and the lioness blazed even brighter.

"Two can play that game Violet," the Witch said coldly. She pointed her wand at the grass, and a patch of snow appeared on the grass, snaking its way into the air, until it was a solid ice wolf.

"Bring it on," Violet snarled. Then they attacked each other once more. Violet may have had her powers on her side, (fire and heat did tend to counter-act a sorceress of snow and winter) the Witch had her powers, fighting skill, and experience, which put her at a slight advantage to Violet's recklessness and ferocity. She began to tire under the Witch's constant attacks, yet the Witch never seemed to stop, her swings at Violet executed effortlessly and gracefully.

Peter decided to cut in, despite the fact that he could either get impaled by icicles or burnt to death if he got too near the two of them. But he decided that he was going to die anyway, and used Rhindon to block an attack from the Witch that would've beheaded Violet. Peter engaged the Witch for a while, giving Violet enough time and energy, to help her lioness clamp its fiery teeth into the wolf's jugular, shattering it into a million shards of ice, melting in the sun.

The Witch screamed in rage, and pulled out another sword from her hip, and began duellin both Violet and Peter at the same time. Every now and then, the Witch would throw icicles at them., but Violet always managed to melt them with a wall of fire. This was the ultimate battle, magic with magic, blade with blade, none willing to step down.

Suddenly, Violet stumbled over a pebble embedded in the ground, and the Witch hit her over the head with the butt of her sword, knocking her out cold.

Peter was now on his own.

They circled each other, like wolves about to pounce and rip each other's throats out, which was exactly their intentions. They both attacked at the same time, and the duel went on. Peter tried to bring the duel away from Violet, as she could get hurt, lying on the ground beneath two deadly blades duelling. He was nearly beheaded with the Witch's twin blades, crossing in the air where Peter's neck would have been, had he not leaned back at just the right moment.

They continued fighting, until an almighty roar resounded through the battlefield, followed by the cry of a thousand men and creatures alike. Peter and the Witch both looked up, neither believing what they were seeing, standing on the rocks, ready to fight.

Aslan, flanked by Lucy, Susan, and a thousand vengeful Narnians.

"Impossible," the Witch hissed.

Violet groaned and sat up, taking in her surrounding. Okay, she was still in the middle of a raging battle. But when she looked to her left, she saw a more than a few hundred Narnians, who had definitely not been there before. And leading them, was none other than Aslan himself, bounding towards her.

"Aslan!" she cried, getting up, struggling to ignore the throbbing in her head. The Great Lion reached her, his eyes blazing golden, even more terrifying and beautiful than before.

"Violet," he said in a hurried voice. "Remember what I said to you; a part of my soul is in you. It can take physical form, only if you accept your birthright, the true extent of your powers. _Remember."_

_You are a born warrior, Violet. My spirit gave you that. There is a lioness inside you. _

Violet gasped. "You don't mean- not literally-"

"There is no time! You must help Peter defeat the Witch, until I come. Now go!"

Violet bounded towards Peter and the Witch, who were duelling fiercely a couple dozen feet away from her. As she did, she heard Aslan's words again in her head.

_A part of my soul is in you._

_It can take physical form._

_There is a lioness inside you._

She knew that the "lioness inside her" was no metaphor for strength, or courage. As she ran, she felt a deep rumbling in her chest. And as sh ran even faster, she shuddered, and her arms and legs expanded into great, powerful limbs. Her torso elongated, her armor exploding from her body, being replaced by rock hard muscles rippling under golden fur. And from her head, her teeth elongated into deadly sharp fangs, her eyes cat like and her nose, into a golden, snarling muzzle. The original clanking of armour as she ran, turned into the dull, heavy thud of large paws hitting the ground.

She had turned into a lioness.

The Witch tripped Peter with her sword, making him land flat on his back. She kicked his sword on out his hand, and plunged her other sword into Peter's arm, lodging him there, weaponless, and vulnerable. The Witch raised her sword, ready to thrust it into Peter's body, and then she heard a roar. Not as powerful as Aslan's but a roar, nonetheless.

She raised her head just in time to see a lioness pounce on her, a flashy row of fangs aiming straight for her face. Violet pinned the Witch to the grass with her powerful paws, teeth bared, mere inches from the Witch's face.

"Violet!" Aslan commanded. "Leave the Witch to me."

The Witch couldn't believe it. It was true. That little girl, a mere human, truly was the Guardian, and Aslan's daughter. The last thing she saw were two pairs of eyes. One, a bright hazel, flecked with green and gold. The other, a pure molten gold. Then her world turned red, then black.

Peter sat up, pulled the sword out of his arm, (not without great difficulty and pain) and saw Aslan standing next to a lioness, and was extremely confused. Where was the Witch? Why was the enemy running in the opposite direction? Aslan and the lioness seemed to be having a silent conversation, purely through their eyes.

"Aslan? Who's this?" Peter said. "I thought you were dead! I-"

"Calm yourself, Peter. She will show you who she is." said Aslan.

The lioness approached him, and looked into his eyes. Then Peter gasped as he recognized those hazel orbs. How many people in the world had flakes of green and gold in their eyes?

"Violet" he said, sounding both amused and shocked. The lioness purred affectionately, and rubbed her head against Peter's chest, nuzzling him. Peter stroked her soft, golden fur. He couldn't believe it; his girlfriend was a lioness.

Aslan then came forward, a solemn air surrounding him.

"It is done." he said. "And Violet, I suggest you don't change form until you can be clothed."

Peter laughed, but stopped quickly, under the glare of the lioness in front of him.

"Peter!" Susan cried. "It's Edmund!"

Both Peter and Violet bounded towards Edmund, who was lying on the ground, clutching his wound, horrible, strangling gasps escaping his lips. Dark liquid oozed through his fingers, and his eyes were clenched shut.

Violet let out a noise that sounded something like a cross between a purr and a whimper, and nudged Edmund lightly.

"Peter?" Lucy said slowly, slightly terrified to see an enormous carnivorous cat nudging her half dead brother.

"That's Violet, long story," he added quickly. "Just get Ed healed!"

Susan got down on her knees, cradling Edmund's head on her lap, pulling off his helmet. Her own tears were spilling onto his cheeks. Lucy pulled out her cordial, unstopped it with trembling fingers, and poured a small drop of the juice into Edmund's mouth. His breathing eased up, but he made no movement.

"Come on, Ed," Peter begged, tears brimming in his own eyes. Lucy and Susen let their tears spill freely, both having lost hope of getting their brother back. Violet herself had , large, fat tears falling from her cat like eyes, at the thought of losing her best friend.

Then all of a sudden, Edmund started coughing. His eyes fluttered open, slightly confused at all the people surrounding him. Blood still flowed through his shattered bits of armour, but it no loner had no source, and began to dry on his hands. Before he could even sit up, Peter pulled him into a bone crushing hug, joined by Lucy, Susan, and then the whole group falling over from the weight of Violet's slightly larger body colliding into them.

They all laughed and sat up, tears of joy spilling over.

"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?" Peter said, laughing and crying at the same time. Violet looked at them blankly; clearly, this wasn't the first time Edmund had nearly died disobeying orders.

"Lucy, I suppose you would like to put your cordial to use here," Aslan announced, and then breathed onto a stone statue. It came back to life, the Narnian thanking Aslan over and over again. Lucy grinned and sprang up, and began administering her cordial to anyone who seemed in need of it.

"So, Violet," Edmund said. "You're a lioness, huh?"

Violet gave a little snarl, and the others laughed, even Aslan giving a small chuckle.

"Come on," Susan said, getting up. "I think Violet wants to change now."

Then they all headed back to the camp.

**Author's note: Here's another chapter, as promised. It's a tad bit short, since my mom only gave me 45 minutes with the computer to type this. But I did my best, and here's the result. Hope you guys enjoyed it! And as usual, review, favorite, the whole nine yards. And if you do, I will... aw, damn, I don't know. I'm running out of ideas. PM me if you have any! **


	16. Chapter 14

**Author's note: GUYS I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN MONTHS YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR MY EXCUSES BUT HERE THEY ARE. Yeah... I'm so genuinely sorry, but I've started school again and I'll be doing my IGCSEs this year. For those of you who don't know, they're these huge exams form fours in Hong Kong have to take which kind of set the standard for your whole life, with university and stuff. So forgive me for not being able to update, and although I can't promise anything, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE THAT THIS STORY WILL NEVER BE ABANDONED. WHEHER THE TIME BETWEEN UPDATES ARE MEASURED IN MONTHS OR DAYS, THIS STORY WILL BE FINISHED. **

**Ok, enjoy the chapter!**

"I can't believe I'm getting into a dress," Violet muttered under her breath, her arms crossed over her chest. Susan sighed. Today was their coronation, and the day Violet would take her vows as Guardian.

"Violet, how do you think you'll look walking down there with us in boots and breeches?" Susan said.

"I know, I never said I _wasn't _going to wear a dress," Violet replied. "I just don't see why you have to help me get prepared. I can dress myself perfectly well."

"That might be true, but you don't know a thing about trying to make yourself look pretty." Susan chirped, pushing Violet into a chair in front of a vanity table. "Now just hold still for an hour or so, and then we can get you into your dress."

"But don't you need to get ready too?"

"I already have my hair and makeup done. I just need to get into my dress later."

Violet groaned and let Susan get started on her hair. She decided to close her eyes and take a few minutes of shut eye, but all she could think of was her little tour of Cair Paravel the other day...

_Violet was sitting in the beautiful palace gardens, sketching every flower she laid her eyes on, when she heard footsteps behind her. She no longer flinched at the idea of being alone with someone else. She was beginning to learn to let go of her fears, and turned around to see who it was._

_"Oh, hey Pete," she greeted._

_"Mind if I join you?" he asked._

_"Of course, go ahead."_

_They say together in a bit of an awkward silence, Peter watching her draw. Then he recognized the battered corners and the wrinkled spine._

_"I don't suppose that's the notebook I gave you, back in England?" he asked, although eh already knew the answer; but Violet didn't know that he had been snooping around her stuff while she was asleep._

"_Yeah, that's the one," she admitted, giving a nervous laugh. "It was a big help for me, you know. So I didn't die of boredom."_

"_That was the idea," he said, smiling back. "So can I see it?"_

"_Yeah, sure."_

_She handed him tattered notebook, and he flipped through the pages, admiring her most recent sketches. Then he came to the page where she had labeled them "graffiti"._

"_This isn't really graffiti you've done, is it?" he asked nervously._

"_No, I don't do graffiti, but I do design stuff like it." She explained. "Based on graffiti I've seen, tattoos, things like that."_

"_And you made these up?"_

"_Yep, all of them."_

"_These are brilliant!" he breathed in amazement. "You're extremely talented, you know that? You can sing, fight, dance, play guitar, draw. How are you so talented?"_

"_When you get into a… situation like mine, you end up with a lot of time on your hands." She said slowly. She still hadn't told anyone about her little incident._

"_What sort of situation?"_

"_The types where you spend a lot of time locked up in your room with a television, Internet and an irrational fear of socializing." she said._

"_What on earth is Internet?"_

_Violet went on to explain about the Internet and it's wonderful uses, all the various websites and things to be found there._

"_Wow, the future is scary," he said. "But fascinatingly so."_

"_Once you get used to it, it sort of becomes a part of life. You know, you can get addiction to the Internet."_

"_No!"_

"_Yes, I'm addicted." Violet laughed._

"_That is so strange!" Peter exclaimed. "But anyway, back to you. What other talents lay hidden in that ridiculously beautiful hair of yours?"_

_He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the silky soft curls slip through his fingers. He wondered why she'd straightened them in the first place. She looked so wildly beautiful with curly hair._

"_Well, I can dance. Just a bit." She said shyly._

"_Really?"_

"_Really. I'll prove it to you," she said, getting up._

"_Not now though. How about at the ball tomorrow?"_

"_The coronation ball? Deal," she grinned, and shook his hand. But just as she was about to pull away, he pulled her in and his arm wrapped around her waist, and he kissed her passionately. Violet responded, leaning in to his warm, hard chest, her arms wrapping around his neck._

_But what she didn't see was Edmund storming away, a tattered rose falling from his hand, its broken blood red petals drifting to the ground._

"Violet, open your eyes. You're all done!" Susan chided. Violet opened her eyes, saw her reflection in the mirror in front of her, and gasped.

The girl in the mirror was not the Violet she last remembered seeing. Her cheeks were a rosy red, and her eyes lined with just the right amount of eyeliner to make her eyes pop, the golden flecks shining. Her light brown hair was silky, half of it cascading down her back in natural curls, the rest tied up in an elegantly messy bun. This was Violet before her attack, when she wasn't afraid of flaunting her looks.

"Susan, how did you…" Violet stuttered.

"Easy, I just worked with what I had, which was quite a lot." Susan said, smiling. "You're more beautiful than you allow yourself to be, you know."

Susan then left the room so Violet could get into her dress, which was so stunning that she felt like she should have been handling the fine material with surgical gloves; if Narnia even had any of those. Once she put on the dress, she checked herself in the full length mirror. The dress was a deep purple, the half sleeves belled out at her elbows, and off-shouldered. The bodice of her gown was intricately embroidered with golden patterns, hugging her waist in all the right places. Her skirt billowed out gently, as it only had a thin petticoat beneath.

Violet heard a knock on her door, and she turned around to see Susan ad Lucy enter the room.

"You both look amazing!" Violet gasped. Susan was in a gown of ocean blue embroidered with silver, the sleeves cascading down her forearms. She also had a dark blue cape, held together with a silver clasp , just on her throat. Her hair was twisted into wild but beautiful curls, then pulled behind in a loose braid. The contrast with her dark hair, and porcelain skin, and cherry red lips reminded Violet of Snow White, Disney version.

Lucy was in a dress of the palest blue, also embroidered with silver. The sleeves hugged her arms, a translucent silver fabric stitched onto her waist, so that it cascaded down her skirts. Her hair was curled only slightly at the ends, so she looked beautiful, yet was able to retain that aura of innocence that was so Lucy.

Violet smiled sadly. She was Lucy's age when she had been attacked. She prayed to whatever God was out there, that nothing of that magnitude could ever happen to dear Lucy.

"I guess we're ready then. Shall we?" Violet said, gesturing for all of them to go downstairs.

"We shall," Lucy said, giggling. They then all left the room, to attend the ceremony that would change their lives forever.

They walked together towards the entrance hall, where the boys and Aslan were waiting for them. When they saw the girls, their eyes widened.

"You all look fantastic!" Peter exclaimed, coming forward to greet them. His eyes strayed towards Violet, and his mouth fell open.

"Wow..." he stammered. "Vi, you... you're..."

"Strikingly, damnably drop dead gorgeous?" Edmund suggested.

"Yes," Peter laughed. "Just that!"

Edmund meant it truly when he said that. Violet was beautiful. She looked so, so beautiful in a dress, all her curves accentuated, adding a strike of femininity that had not been there when she was buried under her usual attire of hobo layers. Yet another slap in the face to remind him of what could not be his.

They arranged themselves to enter the throne room, from left to right, Lucy, Susan, Aslan, Peter and Edmund. Violet stood a little behind them, representing her inferiority to them - which she, in all honesty didn't mind at all. The tall gilded doors swung open, and the kings, queens, guardian and Lion marched in.

Once they reached their thrones, they turned around to face the people. Violet stood aside, waiting for her time to step forward to crown the royals and take her vows.

Mr. Beaver and Mr. Tumnus flanked Violet, with pillows in their hands, each laden with the four crowns she was to place on their heads, as well as a circlet to be placed on her own head.

"To the glistening Eastern Sea," Aslan's voice boomed across the throne room. "I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant."

Violet picked up a silver crown, shaped by silver vines entwining intricately around silver flowers. She crowned Lucy.

"To the great Western Woo+d, I give you King Edmund, the Just."

She picked up a silver crown, much more fit for a man and placed that on Edmund's head.

"To the radiant Southern Sun, I give you Queen Susan, the Gentle."

Violet crowned Susan, hers a golden vision of Lucy's crown, with orange and red flowers instead of silver.

"And to the clear Northern Sky, I give you King Peter, the Magnificent."

She crowned Peter, his large and golden, one that looked much more like the stereotypical crowns people saw in fairy tales.

"Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen." Aslan said in a quieter voice.

He then called Violet forward.

"Are you ready to take your vows to this country?"

"Yes, I am," Violet replied confidently.

"Then kneel, my child." Aslan commanded.

Violet knelt, and Aslan placed a heavy paw on her shoulder.

"Do you accept the responsibility of becoming the Guardian of Narnia?"

"I do."

"Do you promise to protect your country and its rulers with your life?"

"I do."

"Do you promise to guide and guard all current and future rulers of Narnia, until you are no longer needed?"

"...I do."

"You have pledged yourself to guard and guide Narnia, and in doing so you shall be named, Lady Violet Christine Del Bario Mcmillan, Daughter of Aslan and Guardian of Narnia."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edmund snicker at her long name. She rolled her eyes ever so slightly, but put on a straight face when Aslan called Peter forward.

"High King Peter, as newly crowned king, you must seal her vows."

It sounded a lot like a marriage or wedding to Violet, but she brushed it off. Now was not the time.

Peter stepped forward, picking up the final circlet from the pillow, entwined in golden vines, a single purple gem at the front. He gently placed it atop her light brown curls, then stepped back to his throne, smiling.

_Jesus, _Violet thought. _He has a _throne _now. He's a king!_

"I am proud of you, Violet," Aslan said, a smile twinkling in his eyes swimming with molten gold. Then the Great Lion stepped back, letting the Narnians cheer for their new monarchs and guardian.

"Long live High King Peter! Long live King Edmund! Long live Queen Susan! Long live Queen Lucy! Long live Lady Violet!" they cried in unison,the room erupting in cheers and applause. The room slowly emptied, everyone eager to attend the coronation ball. Violet made to follow them out, but Aslan pulled her aside.

"Violet, I shall be leaving for a while." Aslan said quietly.

"What?" Violet exclaimed. "But you just got back! You can't just disappear again for another hundred years!"

"Narnia is in good capable hands." he assured her. "Take care of them."

Then with that, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his soft, golden mane glinting in the sunset.

And he was gone.

But Violet knew he would return one day. She just knew he would.

"Violet!" Susan called. "Are you coming? Yes, that was a rhetorical question. You _have _ to come."

"I'll be there!" Violet laughed, then ran off to follow the others. This was the beginning of a new era for Narnia, and she would proudly be one of those to lead it.

**Author's note: There you go, another chapter done! The story is almost done now, maybe another chapter or two. But don't worry, there will be a sequel. I'm already halfway through writing it in my special notebook! So what's gonna happen at the coronation ball? OOHHHH THE SUSPENSE... ok, so usual stuff, review, favourite, subscribe, whatever. If you loved it, hated it, or just don't care, tell me cause I wanna know. And if you do...**

**FOUR FOR YOU GLEN COCO YOU GO GLEN COCO.**

**Ok, see you guys (hopefully) soon!**


	17. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Guess what, I'm skipping lunch today so I can have time to update. I'll only be doing this once a week in the school library, but I'm doing it so the last few months won't be repeated again. I really hope to keep a constant update schedule going on. So without, further ado, here's chapter 15! **

**Enjoy!**

When she entered the ballroom, she was announced.

"Lady Violet, Guardian of Narnia and Daughter of Aslan."

She descended down the steps gracefully, taking Peter's hand at the bottom.

"I believe you said you'd give me proof of your dancing skills," he said, grinning.

"It's..." Violet blushed. "It's not a type of dance I can do here. I also need to be a little under dressed..."

"Don't worry, we'll find a place and time to show off your skills." Lucy giggled, joining them.

"Not now though," Violet pressed.

"We'll find a time," Peter said.

They wandered around, being greeted by various Narnians. A hug here, a little swaying to the music there, a dance with almost everyone present. It was a party as Violet had never experienced, not with the dark rooms and DJ and the pounding bass of dubstep of the 21st century, but with the light of the sunset streaming in through the open widows, and a small group of fauns with guitars, flutes, and something that looked like a violin, but Violet couldn't really be sure. Violet was even asked to play a few times, and she struck up a tempo with an upbeat Spanish melody, aptly named Diablo Rojo - Red Devil.

And then they brought out the food. So much food. Some of which, Violet didn't even know the names of, but found they tasted... heavenly. Each bite, each new flavour that danced across her tongue... she could not fathom how she'd managed to live her entire life without tasting food in Narnia. She only knew, that she'd never be able to look at food back in her world again, not without thinking how Narnian food was so much better.

Once everyone was full, Peter dragged her out of her chair for another dance, ( a slow one) and they just stayed in each others arms like that, swaying to the soft music... and then Edmund called them back to get desert. Violet dashed back to the tables, Peter laughing as she did.

My God, this is amazing," Violet groaned, after getting her first taste of a Narnian equivalent of a berry pie. Then she held up a forkful to Peter, gesturing for him to try it. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she giggled.

"What?" she said. "Never eaten off your girlfriend's plate before? I don't have cooties, don't worry."

"No, it's just that I thought you didn't share your food." he shrugged.

Violet rolled her eyes, and shoved the fork in his mouth. His eyes widened when the pie touched his tongue, obviously getting at what Violet was saying about its deliciousness.

"Wow, this really is amazing!" he exclaimed, then pecked her on the cheek for 'sharing'.

"Get a room you guys," Edmund snapped, glaring daggers at them.

"What's wrong with you?" Violet snapped back, annoyed that the moment had been ruined. What was up with Ed?

"Edmund's just feeling a little stuffed." Susan said quickly, before Edmund could reply or protest. "Come on Ed, we'll dance for a bit."

Then without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Edmund's hand and dragged him off to the dance floor. They began to sway to the music.

"What do you want, Susan," he asked irritably.

"You're in love with Violet." she replied bluntly.

Edmund's face crumbled into a pained expression. "I wouldn't use such a strong word as 'love'. And it doesn't matter. Peter got to her first. He always will." he said bitterly.

"At least tell her how you feel! You should have some closure for yourself. And who knows, she might've liked you too," Susan said, in a hopeful voice that Edmund couldn't help but was half-hearted.

"You don't sound like you're convinced."

"Just talk to her, okay?"

"Fine... just not now. I'll find a place and time. Just not now."

"Sooner or later, Ed," Susan sighed. "Sooner or later."

Meanwhile, Peter had pulled Violet aside so they were in a deserted corridor.

"What is it Peter?" she asked suspiciously.

"I have something to tell you," Peter said, then took a deep breath and continued. "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but... I think I'm in love with you Violet. I don't know the first thing about you except that you're beautiful, and talented, and brave and... everything I could've ever asked for in a girl."

"Peter..." Violet said slowly, getting an idea where he was going with this.

"No, let me finish. I don't know how, but I've fallen in love with you."

Violet's jaw dropped as she saw what Peter did next.

"Peter, aren't we, uh, a little too young for this?" she said, still shocked. Peter was down on one knee, a simple golden band in his fingers.

"Shush, this isn't what you think it is. It's just a promise ring. But I promise you Violet, that one day I will make you mine, and I will be yours in return. But-"

Violet cut him off, kneeling down so they were level. She then went on to gently press her lips to his, capturing him in the gentlest of kisses. Peter responded with even more tenderness, happy that she finally initiated a kiss between them. He felt her grin into the kiss.

"So Peter," she murmured against his lips. "How long did it take you to draft..."

She kissed him.

"Write..."

Another kiss.

"and memorize that?"

Peter chuckled. "That was done off the top of my head."

"I don't like lies," she pouted. Peter smiled. She was too smart.

"So, was that a yes?"

"What else?" she laughed.

"Come on," Peter said, pulling both of them to their feet so they could go back to the party. "We don't want people to think..."

"I know."

And they returned to the ballroom, hand in hand, a ring glinting on Violet's finger.

As the festivities continued, Violet noticed that the eldest monarchs had had their first taste of Narnian wine. Violet herself had tried it, and it tasted wonderful at first, a peculiar spicy sweetness dancing on her taste buds... then the bitterness of the alcohol hit her. As the night grew later, so did the alcoholic content in everyone present, and formalities and manners were tossed out the windows. Peter was down in the courtyard, teaching a couple of guests the basis of football. Susan on the other hand, was clinging onto Violet, staggering, giggling and mumbling unintelligibly, utterly and completely drunk. Lucy was being pampered by the nymphs, both of which were fortunately sober. They were doing a braid train, each one styling each other's hair. Edmund on the other hand, had disappeared from the party early on. Violet couldn't fully enjoy herself knowing that her best friend was wondering or sulking around the castle somewhere, possibly drunk.

She extracted herself from Susan, leaving Lucy to take care of the intoxicated, not-so-Gentle queen. She was about to walk away when she saw Lucy take a swig from Susan's goblet. Everyone was drinking tonight.

"Lucy!" Violet exclaimed. "You're _underage!_"

"I know, I just wanted to try... not nice..." Lucy shuddered. "And Peter and Susan are underage too."

"I tried to stop them." Violet sighed. "Believe me, I tried." It was a tad bit difficult to keep tracking down both the eldest siblings, and to be honest she couldn't really have stopped them anyways. She then left the festivities to look for Edmund.

The newly crowned Just King was sitting by the edge of a fountain in the palace gardens. He sat alone under the stars and pale moon, nursing a goblet of untouched wine in his hand. He had decided against telling her how he felt.

"God Ed, you're an idiot." he muttered to himself.

"No you're not."

Edmund spun round, surprised to find he was no longer alone. He'd been so sure this spot was secluded. His pulse started to quicken when he saw Violet there, her skin pale in the moonlight, golden brown hair in a sort of mess, which looked rather alluring. Damn she was beautiful.

"So why aren't you at the party?" Violet asked, sitting next to him.

"I'm not really one for parties." he shrugged, trying to ignore how much her being close to him affected him.

"But that doesn't mean you have to hide away from the rest of the world. But if you think about it, I don't like parties either... at least the parties back home." she said. "Everyone's all locked up in a dark room with annoyingly loud music... if you could call it music. People smoking pot left and right, sweat everywhere... it's a nightmare."

Edmund looked horrified at her description of a modern day party. Violet smirked at his face.

"But I guess when it comes to alcohol, time can change nothing." she smiled, pointing to his goblet. "Underage drinking is still illegal."

"Well, as far as we know, there are no drinking laws in Narnia." he replied, chuckling. "And I haven't actually drunk anything yet."

"Don't," she warned. "It's alright at first, then it tastes godawful."

She shuddered at the memory, and Edmund laughed.

"Don't worry though, I'm not drunk." he assured her.

"Oh really?" Violet scoffed. "Come on, open up. Breath check."

What Edmund was thinking about doing, he wasn't sure how to react. But he did anyway.

"How about an easier way?" Edmund said, turning towards her so their faces were barely inches apart.

"Umm.." was all she could say. This was wrong. She was with Peter. So why did she move in closer?

Edmund gently pressed his lips against hers. When their lips met, she felt a fire sparking within her... it roared, and she gasped, kissing him back.

All thoughts of Peter and his promise went out the window. But this was so wrong... so why did it feel so right? So right... her hands snaked their way around his neck and into his hair, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, yanking her to him, pressing her body against his tighter. His tongue slid across her lower lip, and she let out a light moan.

And then her brain started to function again. She shrieked and pushed Edmund away, her hands at her lips in horror. What had she done? She then looked at Edmund, furious.

"What was- I- What do you think you're doing?!" She hissed.

"Kissing you." He replied calmly. How he was calm? He had come to a decision. He was going to fight for her. "And if I remember right, you kissed me back."

"Stop it!" Violet said angrily. Who she was angry at, she didn't know. Herself, Edmund, whatever God was up there twiddling with the strings of fate. "You took advantage of me!"

"_What?_" Edmund said incredulously, now feeling anger rise within him. _Him _take advantage of her? He loved her, couldn't hurt her, he-"

"You heard me," she snapped. "So answer me, what the f-"

"I'm in love with you."

Edmund felt the words leave his mouth, and he couldn't believe he had finally let it slip.

"What did you say?" Violet whispered, dumbfounded.

"I'm in love with you," he said more confidently. "I know I was absolutely horrid to you, and we hated each other. But it's true. I'm in love with you Violet."

Violet sat there silently, her face unmoving and devoid of emotion. Then she broke the silence.

"You're drunk." she said flatly.

"_What?_" he said incredulously.

"You're drunk, intoxicated, you're not thinking straight."

"I know what drunk means!" he snapped. "And I'm not! I don't even drink!"

"You're-"

"Why can't you see it?" he cried exasperatedly. "Didn't you feel it when we kissed?"

"You mean when _you _kissed _me._"

"No, we. You kissed me back."

"Are we seriously arguing about kissing?"

"That is completely off the point! Do you feel that way with Peter?"

"Out of the question, and none of your business." she snapped.

"Oh, of _course _it's none of my business," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. With anger. With bitterness. "Of course it's Peter over me. He's always more handsome, more sociable, more... he's so.. so _perfect. _Perfect Peter, of course you'll choose him."

Violet couldn't believe her ears.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "You're jealous aren't you?"

"No, you listen-"

"_You _listen, Edmund. What Peter and I have is real. He's almost proposed to me! Look at the ring on my finger. It's a promise from Peter. Could _you _ever make a promise like that? Can you handle a relationship? No, what's between you and me is just lust. It'll go away."

"He's just going to leave you someday. I know it. I can _feel _it. But know this, I'm not going to get in the way between you and Peter."

"Good-"

"I'm not done." Then his voice softened. "I'll always be there. I will wait, because Peter _will _ leave, he will. I'll wait forever because I love y-"

_SMACK!_

Edmund rubbed the burning spot on his cheek where Violet had hit him, a red handprint forming on his face. Violet had a mask of horror and shock on her face, eyes wide with fear as he hand covered her mouth in shock.

"I.. I-I…"

Then she ran. Away. From him.

He fell to the ground, head in his hands, fearing he had lost her forever.

**Author's note: Oooh, drama's escalating. For that special reviewer (a guest) here's a little Ed/Vi drama. I just wanna thank every single person who's reviewed, favorited, subscribed to, whatever. Just knowing that there are people out there even looking at my story is just… AAAAARRRGGGGHHHHH-**

**Sorry, your call has been put on hold, please wait for a moment.**

**Ok, I'm done. So if you've got something you wanna share with the class, don't be afraid to tell me through any means possible. I'm open. Just don't send hate. Okay, I'm done…**

**See ya!**


	18. Chapter 16

**A****uthor's note: Hey there my lovely readers! Yes I'm still alive, but I did say updates wouldn't be very consistent. Sorry for the long wait anyway. Without further ado, I present to you, the final chapter in Icy Violets.**

**Enjoy!**

The next morning, being one of the few people who didn't have a hangover, Violet and Lucy were in charge for the rest of the day. They'd insisted on helping clean and cook for the remainder of the day, to help make up for the lack of staff. Rooms were swept, rubbish thrown out, until the castle was returned to its former order and glory… not that it wasn't already stunningly majestic.

Violet joined Peter for a light snack in his chambers, both currently unaware that having a person who wasn't family, of the opposite sex alone in your room wasn't exactly normal, nor were they aware of the gossip and giggles spreading like wildfire throughout the whole castle - the Guardian and the High King. Some were even planning their wedding.

Of course, she hadn't forgotten Edmund. He was the main reason she was sticking like glue to Peter. Maybe, she thought, maybe I'll forget that git. Those dark curls on that git's head. His warm chocolate eyes. That complete _arse_. Why did he have to be so damn hot? She mentally slapped herself. She was losing it.

"Violet?"

"Huh?" she mumbled, shaking her head. She wasn't in the gardens. She was here in Peter's room, cuddled against him on the floor, a mini picnic scattered on the wonderful carpeted floor, sunlight streaming in through the open balcony doors. Not by that fountain and the pale moonlight, and the scent of flowers and the sound of rustling leaves-

"You alright?" Peter asked. "You were gone for a while."

"Oh…uhm… nothing." She lied. She felt so horrible. "I'm just a little tired."

"Lie down with me," he grinned. "My headache isn't gone yet. I'm feeling rather tired myself as well."

She blushed, her mind processing those words entirely different. But she knew he wouldn't. it was just her and her mind adjusted to the sex spewing out of every corner in the 21st century.

"Come on Vi, stay with me," he murmured, stroking her face gently, his thumb lightly caressing her lower lip. She shuddered.

"People will think-"

"Let them think. We're not doing anything besides taking a nap, as far they're concerned.

Violet sighed and began to get up off the floor. Then Peter leapt to his feet and swept Violet off her feet (literally) and into his arms. She shrieked and giggled as he tossed her on the bed and tickled her mercilessly. Violet had never laughed so much in her life, so much that every breath hurt – but not in a bad way. Not at all. And as she fell asleep in his arms, nestled in his warm hard body, Edmund finally lay forgotten. She had locked him into a corner of her mind, a drawer that often rattled, trying to burst open.

And it stayed like that for seven years.

***Seven Years Later***

It was a relatively normal day. At least two pranks had been pulled around the castle so far by Edmund and Violet, (there was usually two or three daily, and occasionally Lucy took part) Susan and Lucy had been wandering the castle together looking for a lost item of theirs (Susan's handpainted bookmark this time) and Peter had yelled himself hoarse, for he had once again been the victim of the classic fart cushion. How Violet had been lucky enough to find the right material in Narnia to make one still eluded her.

But Peter had changed his routine around a little today.

Because tonight was _the _ night. The one he'd spent three years working up the courage to make happen. Everything was prepared. The gardens were set and barred off from any wandering eyes, especially Violet's. And in his pocket, that little silver band suddenly felt like a million tons.

He was going to propose to her.

And for that reason he was locked up in his room, having a panic attack, Lucy banging on his door to let her in.

"I can't do it," he moaned. "She's going to say no! Why wouldn't she?!"

"Peter Pevensie you open this door right now, or I swear by Aslan I will break it down!"

He mumbled an inaudible response.

Lucy rolled her eyes from outside the door, and pulled out a small knife from her pocket. She picked the lock carefully, until she heard a small click. She smirked, and pushed the door open. She stopped at the sight of her brother in a mess.

"Oh come on Pete," she sighed. "You can't back out now! Seven years is long enough!"

Peter looked his baby sister in the eye, wondering when it was that she'd matured faster than he did. Gone were the chubby cheeks, the cute button nose, the tiny body of an eleven year old girl, even the freckles. She had grown into the quite the lady. Now twenty years old, she had filled out decent curves, as graceful as Susan's. Her bright blue eyes no longer screamed "baby" but "innocent young woman who's got too much beauty and mischief from her older brother cause said dark haired brother never failed to transform anyone younger than him into a prankster of sorts" kind of look. Her hair had grown past her little bob cut, and now tumbled past her waist in gentle curls.

And it also meant that she was bringing home just as much trouble as Susan. Peter, bless him, refused to believe that his two baby sisters had grown up. It was hard, seeing them grow up, and it was just as hard on Edmund as well. Both were fiercely over-protective of Lucy and Susan, desperate to keep them the little girls in pigtails he once knew them to be.

Oh well. Time files when you're having fun.

"What's the matter Peter?" she asked gently. "Both of you have been heads over heels for each other for seven years. _Seven. _If it were me, I would be dying for a proposal!"

"Don't joke about getting married!" he snapped. "You're still twenty, still plenty of time."

"_Still twenty?!_" she gaped. "I'm already twenty! I- don't change the topic. Now everything's set. All you have to do in get on one knee and say four words, and she'll say yes, and you'll get married and have dozens of children."

His face went as red as a tomato, his eyebrows furrowing in… he wasn't sure. Nor did he want to know what he was feeling.

Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door.

Come in," Lucy called.

A servant stepped in, looking rather flustered.

"Good afternoon your highnesses, King Edmund asked me to-" she began.

"PETER! LUCY! SUSAN! VIOLET! PETER!" Edmund shouted, running into the room.

"Well…"

"Oh, hello Emily," Edmund said cheerily to the servant girl. She blushed profusely at being addressed directly

"What in the world are you doing Edmund?" Lucy said hotly, glaring at her other brother.

Edmund's face was red from running about the castle and screaming hysterically.

"The White Stag has been spotted!" he said gleefully.

"That's brilliant!" Lucy exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "I'll go get the others."

And with that, she ran out of the room, Peter and his dilemma temporarily forgotten.

"Well," Peter sighed. "At least she can't bug me anymore."

Edmund rolled his eyes at his brother; but he was crumbling inside, and left the room abruptly.

It was now late afternoon and they had gone deep into the woods of the Lantern Waste, before they has spotted the stag.

"There it is!" Lucy cried, pointing.

They all charged after the stag, until Edmund's horse began to slow down.

"Are you alright Phillip?" he asked concernedly.

"I'm just… not as young… as I used to be…" the old horse wheezed.

The rest of the party trotted back towards Edmund.

"Come on Ed," Susan said. "Is there a problem?"

Susan had grown to be the most beautiful woman in all of Narnia. Many a man had walked through the doors of Cair Paravel with every intention of bringing the Gentle Queen home – yet lord after prince after king and emperor left empty handed, much to Peter's relief.

"We're just resting," Edmund replied, patting Phillip on the neck.

"What was that he said earlier, Lu?" Violet asked in mock-wonder.

"Allow me to quote," Lucy said smugly, then went on in a deeper voice. "'You girls stay at the castle and I'll go get the stag myself!'"

Edmund scowled as everyone else burst into laughter.

"So funny," he grumbled under his breath.

"Of course it was," Violet shot back, grinning. "Wasn't it, Lucy? Lu?"

But Lucy had gotten off her horse, gazing in awe at a peculiar looking… no, it wasn't a tree, but a lamppost with tendrils of vines creeping up around the metal, signs of time. Everyone else approached the lamppost, all feeling a sense of déjà vu.

"It's like a dream," Lucy said in wonder.

"Or a dream within a dream," Peter agreed.

Suddenly Lucy gasped.

"Spare Oom!"

Violet gasped as well. It all came back. Her past, (or their future) the wardrobe, Mrs. Fairwood…

They ran towards a thicket of branches, desperate to see if… if it all was still there. The others followed confusedly, until they were all squashed in single file, branches and twigs scratching their bodies and they struggled to fight through the vines and… coats?

"These aren't trees," Susan said with a frown. "They're coats!"

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Violet said sarcastically. But a branch then decided to appear and stuff itself in her mouth, so it came out like "thank you capat- ofee-oos-h-"

"Ouch!" Lucy yelped. "Get off my foot!"

"I'm not on your foot!" Edmund snapped back angrily.

The squabbling continued until they all fell forward, out of the wardrobe, their hands and knees colliding with a wooden floorboard, old and dusty.

They were teenagers again, in England, the siblings back in their knee length socks and sweaters, and Violet in her jeans and hoodie.

Professor Kirke chose to walk through the door that very moment, cricket ball in hand, resulting in a very awkward situation.

"Now what were you all doing in the wardrobe?" he asked, with only a slight look of surprise. "And who is this young lady?"

They all looked at each other, then faced the professor.

"I don't think you'd believe us if we told you, sir," Peter said, a small smile on his face.

"Try me."

**Author's note: I never thought I'd get such an amazing response from you guys, and although it doesn't seem much compared to most stories, seventy something reviews, 23 favorites and 41 follows is HUGE for me. So thank you to everyone who's read this story, it really means a lot to me. Yes, there will be a sequel, once I get up to typing it out. So THANK YOU SO MUCH AND SEE YOU IN THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF FLOWERS OF NARNIA…**

***DRUMROLL***

**Hehe, I'm not saying anything. But you're all welcome to guess. The title of this series is a hint enough **

***wink* So give your last reviews and favorites, cause Icy Violets is OUT.**

**Dancing Spectrum**


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